The Night Watch
by karrenia
Summary: While it seems that from the moment he lost his wife, life has been throwing John Winchester curve-balls an unexpected encounter comes as a welcome surprise along the way. Crossover between Stargate SG-1 and Supernatural.
1. Chapter 1

"The Night Watch" by Karen

John Winchester is no stranger to the bizarre and inexplicable. In fact it has pretty much defined his entire life. So when he came across the prone and semi-lucid woman dressed in the remnants of a military field flak jacket and slacks. Her coat sleeves dangling by threads, John immediately went to her rescue, without thinking much about the consequences of his actions.

He checked all of the requisite life signs just as a certified EMT would: pulse, blood pressure, and breathing.

The woman is alive, barely. Lifting her up in his arms John carried her over to where his truck is parked on thee shoulder of the road and carefully laid her down, so as not to jostle her. Aside from being the right thing to do, John is curious about her presence.

John finally got her patched up and resting comfortably. Then he shuffled over to the chair by the bed and sat down, picking up the much-thumbed through tattered journal, and began turning the pages.

He was searching for any references that might explain how a perfectly ordinary woman could have fallen out of the sky and left an indentation in the ground and managed to survive. If he had been somebody else, he would be looking for a more rational explanation, such as a plane crash survivor, but then there would be more debris, right? Maybe she'd been hang-glding, whatever the case, he kept searching, turning the pages with stubby fingers.

Until he came to a reference from an old Iroquois myth of the sky woman, with a cross-index to various Native American Creation stories. They believed the world to have seven levels, our Earth is the middle level and the time of the story, the entire globe was covered in water. In the topmost level, in the roof of the world a young woman became pregnant much against her father's wishes.

The girl's father was the ruler of the world and he became quite furious when he learned of the pregnancy that he ripped up a tree.

The hole thus created made a gigantic tear in the roof of the world, and one could see all the way to the bottom level, to our world.

The father, unable to contain his anger, threw his daughter into the well, and she fell, and fell, until it all she knew was the sensation of free-falling, end over end, and weightless, and then blackness.

The animals dwelling on the surface looked up and saw her danger, and as she plummeted, the geese flew upwards and caught her on their wings, breaking her dsecent.

The great turtle surfaced and told the other animals they could live on his back. The animals dove deep into the cold waters around the turtle to make mud, spreading the mud upon the back of the great turtle to make it soft enough for the First Woman to live upon. She gave birth to the First Man, and the lived upon Turtle Island, which is now called North America.

"It's a pretty little tale," and I'm sure it is marvelous for the Indians," John muttered into the dog-eared pages of his book, "But it does not really answer my questions."

It's been a while since he has had company of any kind on his lonely quest to hunt down and put an end to the threat pose by the world of the paranormal. He should know better than anyone, that outside of the local Native American folklore, women do not just fall out of the sky. While he is getting the unidentified women situated, John darted a backward glance at the spot where he'd found her and noticed that the loose soil is torn up and the imprint of her body is sharply delineated in the shallow earth.

Aside from a being a damn coincidence, from just a visual and physical check John could not detect any outward signs of anything too out of the ordinary or paranormal about her appearance.

Back at the hotel room John had rented out for the next two weeks because he had not been sure how long his stay in Watseka, Illinois would be.

He tended to her until she finally regained consciousness.

She was rather ordinary, when he could finally look into her blue eyes, though she did have a certain delicate grace and resilience a kind of mental toughness, like one who has experienced freedom from the planet's gravity.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"With me," John replied, as if that would answer all of her questions.

Janet Fraiser didn't know where she was or what had happened to her. Her last concrete memories where of the planet PSX-666 where she had been separated away from her field team. The well-planned offensive put together by General Hammond and the members of SG-1 one that had rapidly crumbled under the continued brunt of the Jaffa shock trops and the even more worrisome 'super soldier.'

At least the Jaffa, could, by some measure, be reasoned with, however the faceless, walking weapon was another matter entirely. Even their best weapon to use against it, the Zat gun, seemingly had proved ineffective.

Janet tried to brush aside this lingering worry, after all, her job is to make certain that folks stayed in one piece, and even the got injured, to patch them up. Janet knew going into her line of work, that it would not be easy, but then as a little girl, she had learned nothing worth having would be easy. She didn't make it all the way to the top of her profession and then finally promoted to Chief Medical officer of the Star Gate Command by playing it safe.

If she concentrates and tries to bring her scattered memories of the battle into a concrete and reliable form, she remembers the smell of ash and ground up soil, the smell of blood and panic wafting on a late fall breeze. In the distance, but drawing gradually nearer to the position where she kneels over the prone form of an injured airman, she can hear the thrum of fire arms whirring away, shouts and garbled orders, along with the ominous thud-thud of the Gou'ald war-leader Anubis' 'walking death' machines.

She remembers becoming distracted from tending to her patient, then the cold eyes of a Jaffa' solider looming over her. Janet also remembers one hand holding the wounded airman down, the other trying to unobtrusively reach for her own weapon, and then a bright stabbing pain, throbbing light and then a gradual fall into a blessed, painless sleep.

She tried to focus on her present surroundings, thinking as she does so, that this room, by no stretch of the imagination, does not resemble her infirmary at the Cheyenne Mountain Base. In fact, she would have to say that it looks suspiciously like your average room in an economy hotel chain.

"I'm afraid," Janet said, sitting up straighter in the bed. "You are going to have to do better than that. I can see that we're here, but could you be more specific?"

"Well," John mutters and scratches his growth of stubbly facial hair.  
"I think for starters, we'll go with formal introductions, John Winchester, at your service, Ma'am."

"Dr. Janet Fraiser."

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Janet. How do you feel?"

"What do you mean? And you don't have to call me 'ma'am." Janet shrugged. "Aside from feeling a bit woozy and completely out of it, I feel fine."

"I mean that when I found you," John paused, "You looked pretty far gone. In fact, I thought you were not long for this world."

Janet looked down at the torn sleeves of her flak jacket, stained with soil and blood. Then she saw a pile of her other belongings had been neatly folded and cleaned, then placed on a chair by the television. "You've been busy while I was out, but thank for the save, but why go to all that trouble on my account. You could have just called in the authorities, or at least 911."

"Let's just say, that I'm the sort that prefers to do things my own way, in my own time." John smiled. "And you're right, Ms. Fraiser, I'm not exactly follow the establishment kind of guy." John looked up at her, curious and a little surprised about how natural and easy it was to talk to her, about how ordinary and pleasant it was to strike up a conversation with a stranger whom he had rescued from a free-  
fall out of the sky.

"So, where you from?"

"Colorado."

"That's a long hike." John replied, mentally calculating the distance in miles she would have had to travel, either by air or by car, before she arrived at the scene of the crash. After he'd rescued her, carried her back and tended to her injuries, he should have gone back and searched the entire surrounding area, for clues or at the least to satisfy his own curiosity about what happened.

"So, what happens now?" Janet asked.

"Well now," John smiled. "And no, it's not what you're thinking. I'm not the type to take advantage of you. First of all, we're going to need to find you some proper clothes, and then we'll get something to eat."

"The way you talk reminds me of how southern belles would 'always rely on the kindness of strangers.'. Janet grinned as she shifted positions on the double bed while watching John who was seated on the opposite double bed across from her.

"You don't want to eat?" John replied, back to practicalities.

"I could eat." Janet replied. "To be honest with you, John, I can't remember the last time I ate, or the last seventy-two hours, or even how I got here.

"What is the last thing you do remember?"

"Something about getting the wounded out of harm's away,' then nothing after that until I woke up here." Janet sighed. "It's not that uncommon for people to be knocked unconsciousness in one place and wake up in a completely different place, with no memory of how it happened, is it?"

"Not if you belonged to the Mob," John replied. "I'm kidding, really."

"Hysterical, really." Janet burst out laughing, wondering in the back of her mind if some lingering post had caused this entire conversation because of a fever, and it was all in her mind. "The Mob?"

"Yeah, stranger things have happened," John replied, seemingly speaking to himself, "You'd be surprised."

"Why should I trust you?"

"You've trusted me this far. What to go double or nothing?"

"Did anyone ever tell you, you are incorrigible."

"Yeah, my ex-wife, my kids, and most everyone I ever met." John grinned. "So that makes number seventy five, I think, but who's counting?"

"Well then, if you don't mind, I think I want to get cleaned up, and then about that dinner and some clean clothes."

"Okay, I like you and I want to help you," John smiled, leaning forward and extending his hand to her. "I'm in."

"You're a scamp, but I think I owe you my life, and I'm hungry." Janet returned the smile, extending her own hand out to shake his. "I'm most likely going to regret this, but for the moment, thank you."

"Fair enough. John smiled, leaning back and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his denim jeans. "You get cleaned up, I'll order some food, how does Chinese takeout sound?"

"Just fine, thanks."

"You are very welcome, and you can call me John. All of my friends do." He smiled.

"Janet, since we've reached a first name basis," she replied.

Continued in chapter 2: Those Who Hunt By Night 


	2. Those Who Hunt by Night

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 belongs to Gekko Film Corporation MGM Productions, it is not mine, nor are any of the characters who appear within. Supernatural belongs to the WB television network. Notes: part 2 of Dancing with the Devil series. Picks up where "The Night Watch" left off. Contains spoilers from the 1st season of Supernatural. And the 7th season of SG-1. 

"Those Who Hunt by Night" by Karen

The moon sailed along overhead like an overloaded ship lost in a foggy night-bound sea and the scudding clouds driven along by a chill autumn wind only enhanced the impression.

By the time the uniformed Illinois police officers and the emergency personnel completed their duties and departed, the moon had already reached the point in its cycle where it was a shade from waxing full. 

In some places, the unseen observer hidden in among the scrub bushes lining either side of the road would have called it a hunter's moon. In the back of her mind, she finds that quite appropriate, the only question, really, is whether the roles of should be reversed, if her target is still the hunter, or if he has now numbered among the hunted. It's an interesting dilemma, one to be savored and perhaps shared among her fellows.

She has waited crouched down among the shadows, biding her time and waiting for just the right opportunity to go out to the clearing on the far side of the road and make her own investigation. She could have delegated the job to one among her followers, but she has recently learned from experience, sometimes it goes back to that old saying, if you want something done right the first time, do it yourself . 

The watcher, going by only outward appearances, is a petite blonde female and most likely in her early twenties.

She shuffled her feet and ground the toes of her metal-spiked boot heels into the soft, yielding ground. She has been waiting a long time, not just here beside the road, but waiting for decades. Demons have lots of time, but they are not known for exhibiting overly perfect patience. 

Something that Meg has observed quite often of late in dealing with her own personal enemy, the Winchesters, trickling down from the father, John, down to his sons, Dean and Sam.

Demons are not known for being tender-hearted, but in a wayward part of her mind, she almost feels sorry for them, almost, but not quite. 

When the clearing at last emptied of people she moved forward careful not to disturb the distinct imprint in soft dirt, crouching down to trace the outline from top to bottom and around on either side. She traced the length, breadth, and imprinted the exact configurations on her mind, for future reference. She stopped to suck in a deep breath of the chill evening air and put one slim hand on her hips. 

She sniffed, an action remarkably similar to that of a mountain lion getting and holding on to the scent of its quarry near at hand. "John, John, what have you gotten yourself into this time? That's the problem with do-gooders in general, once you start you end up meddling in just about everything."

All the people that had tramped around and over the original indentation had pretty much smudged away its clear definitions, but she knew, without a doubt, that she was on the right track.

Interlude

Meanwhile John had taken Janet to a mall to buy new clothes since he tended to travel light and alone and his boys where off conducting the family business on their own, he had very little in the way of either feminine company or clothing. Janet certainly could not go around in his spare clothing, not that he did not think she looked quite attractive with his flannel plaid jacket hanging down below her slender waist. So, he had loaded up his truck, and taken her shopping. The clothes that she had been wearing when he had literally stumbled across her had long since been thrown out.

John had been shopping for women's apparel many times with his wife, Mary, many times so he was not that uncomfortable or nervous about the task, it was just a little awkward standing 'guard' as he tended to think of the duty of waiting outside of the fitting rooms, holding a women's purse, and exchanging one garment after another as they either failed or met with said woman's approval. 

Finally, Janet, whom he had come to think of a sensible, pragmatic and level-headed person, came out with an armful of clothing that she wanted. "Success?" John asked casually.

"I think so," replied Janet with a smile. "Thanks for going to all the effort, it must be some kind of genetic code for guys to put up with this sort of thing and women to want to go through with it."

"Thanks, Doc," John quipped. "Next on the agenda, we grab some diner, it's getting pretty late and I could eat."

"Sounds good to me," she replied.The diner is crowded and the regular patrons seem to be mostly blue collar workers and their families, sprinkled here and there with a few semi-truck drivers off the interstate, and farmers. John feels that dressed as they are now they should have no trouble at all with blending right into the mix.

They chose a table and scanned the menu while waiting for the girl to come over to take their orders.

"So, do you always camp out of budget hotel rooms?" asked Janet by way of making conversation.

"No, when just when I'm traveling on the road for business," John quickly replied. "I'm from Kansas, originally, my business just takes all over these United States."

"Ever been to Colorado," asked Janet as she scanned the menu, wondering if she could get something that was not too greasy, perhaps even a salad.

"A couple of times, my boys where up there recently. Why do you ask?"

"No particular reason," Janet shrugged. "I used to work in Colorado Springs."

"I know you said you're a doctor, mind if I ask in what specialty?"

"General practice." Janet put down the menu and brought her head up so that she held eye contact with John, "How long have we been together, what is it, the better of two, maybe three weeks?"

"Something like that," John said, nodding in the direction of the girl waiting tables and indicating that he was ready to place his order. The girl came over with a pad of paper in hand. "BLT and a Miller Lite beer me. Janet?"

"Taco salad with a side of fruit and water."

"Got it,' replied the girl, "Anything else?"

"No, that should do it, thank you," Janet said. "I've been debating whether or not to tell you about something," began shout before she trailed off into an awkward silence. "

"Whatever it is, your secret is safe with me, I hope you know that by now," John replied.

"When I think back to how you found me, lying on the ground all twisted and bent out of shape, I told you afterwards that my memories were just as scrambled. But I distinctly recall being in some kind of fight, and then someone firing at me, point blank."

"Bad dream?"

"Hardly, unless I've begun dreaming in vivid color. "I should be dead, but I'm not, how do you explain that?"

"This might sound a little crazy, but sometimes it's better not to look a gift horse in the mouth, if you'll pardon my use of a time-honored cliché." John wondered if he might be wrong in this instance by relying on his hard won instinct and experience, but there was so much more that he wanted to know about her, so much that might wish to share, not that his wife, Mary, was dead, and there no way to bring her back. 

Janet tapped her fingers on the edge of the table, breaking eye contact and let her head drop so that the bangs of her brown hair fell across her eyes. "Funny you should say that. You know, a public place like this might not be the ideal locale for this discussion, but I can't think of better time."

"

It had been the better part of the last fifteen years since John Winchester had encountered a creature capable of identifying specific markers of someone that had quite literally been to other worlds. The thing that he was having the most difficulty wrapping his head around was the fact that this particular marker was one that his journal did not have an entry for, after all, unless one believed in urban myths and elaborate paranoid conspiracy theories; there were no such things as alien and if that logic followed; no such things as alien abductions, or off-world travel.

The realties of the paranormal and the supernatural was enough of a job to start to worry and chase after 'little green men. In John Winchester's mind 'little green men and conspiracy theories were things better left to those who wrote articles for the sensational pulp newspapers and sci-fi techies.

So when he first ran across the head of a cult, he first thought was: 'Great, another would-be scam artist out to make a fast buck by brain-washing the gullible,. There's nothing remarkable about that, Hell, it happens almost everyday.

At last that was what was running through his mind until he found out that his surmises about it being a cult was right on target; what he had not counted on was that power behind the cult leader was in fact, very alien, not paranormal. He had begun to feel quite out of his depth.

John Winchester had not lived as long as he had in chosen profession to ignore his gut instincts, and as had been proved time and again, his instinct was right on target. 

When he arrived home again, he had not mentioned a word of what had happened at the retreat compound or the mysterious anonymous letter he had received from an organization with the letterhead initials NID, to either of his sons. The older one, Dean might have understood, but not Sam, he was too young, barely out of toddler hood and Dean, well, at the time Dean had his own issues to be dealt with in his own unique fashion. The letter and its contents had long since been wadded up into a ball and thrown away, but he could not stop thinking about it.

Present Day

Meg had followed the trail, and had momentarily become confused as the track appeared to cross and then rectos the same area, before she picked it up once again. She did not have the high tech gadgets for following a moving target, what she did have was a keen sense of direction, a good nose, her prey either did not realized that they were being hunted, or even better from her point of view, did not care. 

Either way, Meg, thought in the back of her mind, John Winchester would soon feel the moment of his life slipping away, and when the final moment came, she would be the one to kill him. The thought felt right, it felt that it would bring full circle an ongoing sort of grudge between the two of them; one that Meg intended to win at all costs. If the women, Janet, was her name, got in the way, 'Well, then,' Meg said aloud, "that will be just an added bonus, won't it?"

Scene 5 Fight Scene Janet's thoughts were not so muddled by her recent ordeal that she could not sense danger when it approached. After all, she had been on the knife's edge of breaking her non-disclosure oath to tell a civilian about her work with the United States Air Force and the Stargate Command Program, but something had held her back.

Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was loyalty, at this point she did not really care. She liked and trusted John Winchester, however, it did not take much to realized that he was being equally close-mouthed and leery about telling her too much information about the specific nature of his own 'business.'.

Meg came up behind them, having worked herself up into a controlled frenzy. Under other circumstances she would have brought along her henchmen, but John Winchester, whether or not he was aware of it, had earned himself her attention alone.

John was at the door of their hotel room and at this time of night the hallways were deserted, Janet stood off to his left her hands full of plastic shopping bags, waiting while John fumbled with the key card to the locked door.

John's attention was immediately diverted from the keys when they both heard the soft scuffling sound of leather boots on the plush burgundy carpet. John and Janet turned around and saw the petite but compact form of a blond woman running toward them at full tilt from the opposite direction.

Judging by his rigid stance and the muscles of his shoulders tensing up, Janet recognized the warning signs of danger and took up a defensive stance as well.

At that moment John reached into the interior lining of his leather jacket and pulled out a gun. "Someone you know?" Janet asked."

"Someone I would very much like to not know at all," replied John tersely and under his breath.

"John, John" Meg taunted, "How many times do we have to do this little two-step maneuver? You know that little pea-shooter of yours can't kill me." Meg sprung forward and made a grab for the trailing sleeve of Janet's coat. "I wonder how many loved ones you've lost by now, John. What's one more or less?"

"Let her go! I'm the one you want!" demanded John.

"How right you are," replied Meg with a nasty throaty chuckle. "Lucky you, you get a Get out Jail Free card tonight." She tossed Janet aside and the force of it knocked Janet back into where John stood with his gun.

"This is working out well," Janet griped.

"Yeah, I know. Janet, go inside the room, and wait for me, " John said.

"I'll do it, only because it makes sense, not because you think I can't take care of myself," replied Janet in a low whisper.

"We're not arguing about this, are we?"

"No.

"Good."

John readied his Colt Revolver, primed and locked the firing mechanism, thumbing off the safety and took aim, thinking in the back of his mind, that it was too damn convenient that his nemesis, in the form of a young blond girl, had been able to track him down this easily. In the back of his mind, he kept thinking, 'well I gave it a damn good try, but I guess it's true, you can't outrun Death, but you can make the bastard work for it.'

Meg closed the gap between them, John's knuckled locked over the barrel of the gun had turned white but he never wavered. 

The retort of the gun firing echoed throughout the hallway, and time seemed to stand still while everything else around him seemed to speed out, but that was just a trick of his overactive imagination. The Colt had been designed specifically for taking out paranormal targets, so when it hit the demon square in the chest, it made a resounding thump, thud and a wet splat. John did not wait to get in another shot, opened the locked door, and ran inside. "Come, on, we're packing up, and getting the hell out of here."

Conclusion

"Thanks," Janet said wryly.

"For saving my life, again. Do you remember, shortly after we first met, I asked you if you made a habit of saving 'damsels in distress."

"Yeah, but only the pretty ones," John teased, but seriously, you're welcome, and I bet a smart woman like you had probably wondered and come up with a bunch of ideas about why this weird shit seems to follow me around like a bad smell, huh?"

"The thought has crossed my mind," Janet said. "Truth to tell, I'm not exactly a stranger to having weird stuff happen to me, to borrow your rather colorful expression."

"I guess, I'd prefer not to have to put into a situation where I have to 'fess' up and tell you the truth." John shook his head and plunked down on the double bed of their hotel room. "It took me forever and day to even admit as much to my youngest, but maybe I should tell you, after all, it was because of my business that your life was put in danger back there."

"Honestly, I am really being eaten up inside with curiosity," Janet replied. "I'll understand and if it's something that you are uncomfortable talking about with outsiders."

"I'd like to tell you, Janet, really I would, but the problem is, I'm not uncomfortable talking about it, it's just that I'm not certain that I should." John sighed and

"Try me," Janet, "I am a very good listener, I may not remember everything that's happened up to and after the accident, but I do remember that."

John closed his eyes and began to speak, "Almost twenty years ago, this all begun with the death of my wife, Mary, our house burned down and I barely escaped with our sons, Dean and Sammy."

"My God," Janet whispered.

"Thanks, but I'm afraid that the Almighty had very little to do with it," John said and then added. "It was work of the "Other Side" if you will that was responsible."

"Are you telling me that the devil was behind it?"

"Demon, actually," John said. "Paranormal and supernatural have become pretty much a routine part of my life now."

"I', I'm not sure what to think, I never really gave much thought to proving or disproving whether or not the paranormal existed, I'm a doctor, I have to deal with the practical and provable facts, not superstition, but, this, this is just too weird." Janet said as she sat down on the other bed, running her fingers through her tangled brown hair.

"If you want out, I'll understand, if you have friends or family in Colorado Springs, we can contact them…" John trailed off.

"No, at least not yet, not until I can wrap my head around everything that's happened, but thank you for the offer." 


	3. The One that Got Away

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 belongs to Gekko Film Corporation MGM Productions, it is not mine, nor are any of the characters who appear within. Supernatural belongs to the WB television network. Notes: part 3 of Dancing with the Devil series. Picks up where 'Those Who Hunt by Night' left off. 

"The One that Got Away and Other Fish Stories" by Karen

Whether or not Jack O'Neill's plan to let some of the tension and stress of the past month out by taking the entire SG-1 team on a fishing trip at his cabin in northern Minnesota had been the best course of action, it was no longer open to debate.

Doctor Jackson thought it over as he got out of the silver rental car, went to the back of and began unloading the camping and fishing equipment from the trunk and then picked up the cooler by its handles and handed the remainder over to Samantha Carter and Teal'c.

Jack had gone off whistling, and Daniel thought 'I don't think I have ever seen him this relaxed.'

About thirty minutes later Jack had settled himself into a wicker chair on porch deck, back up and his legs extended out in front of him, his fishing pole in hand, baited and ready to go. "Sir."

"We're off duty, Sam," Jack said, "You don't have to call me sir here."

"I realize, that, it's uh, just a force of habit." Sam smiled and shrugged, flushing a bit as she wrestled with her own fishing pole whose strand had tangled up around in a tight knot and had snarled around the crank at the top of the pole.

With some work she at last managed to unsnarl it, wind it up again, and get it more or less back to the way it was supposed to be. Settling back in her own chair, she reached into the bucket situated between their two chair, reached in with her free hand and took out the bait. "Remind me again, why we are doing this?" Sam asked, knowing even as she did so that Jack had been itching to get some leave in order to go fishing at General Hammond for a very long time now.

"Because I can," Jack replied.

"Oh, right, how silly of me to forget." Sam smiled and dipped her pole into the lake water. "What do I do now?"

"Sit back and wait for the fish to come to you, it'ss the beauty part of fishing."

"What's the other part, aside from being outside in the fresh air and the sunshine?"

"That explains why you were always so keen to get out here," Daniel replied as he came up to join the others with Teal'C following close behind him. "We've got the stuff stashed in the cabin. Where do you want us to set up the grill?"

"In the back, but do it later," Jack said, "have a seat and relax, both of you." Jack paused and then swiveled his head to eye both Daniel and Teal'C. "What do I have to do, make that an order?"

"Uh, no, right away," Daniel stammered and plunked down on the wooden boards of the porch, and then removed his shoes and socks and dangled his feet in the water. Teal'C took a seat in one of the other chairs nearer the cabin.

The sun was brilliant and fuzzy like a huge tennis ball suspended in the sky overhead, Daniel hazily thought, the heat of the day, and the lazy afternoon stretching out before him with nothing more pressing to do, combining to make him nod a bit and force his eyelids down.

Daniel briefly considered going to the effort of getting up and walking over to the cabin to retrieve the book he had brought along, but then decided that it would be too much effort and remained exactly where he had plunked himself down.

Jack meanwhile was engaged in telling Sam some wild story about the first time he had taken his son Charlie fishing and how the boy had stood up in the center of the boat and capsized them over into the middle of the lake.

In the background Sam could hear the thrum of a motor running, which she assumed was the portable generators Jack used to cool his cabin in the summer and warm it in the winter. She was about to say something about the benefits of energy efficiency of solar panels, when she was interrupted by the sound of truck engine misfiring.

On vacation or not, that was no reason to let go of her natural instincts and well-honed instincts of potential danger.

She stood up from her, the motion yanking her fishing pole out of the water and in the back of her mind Sam thought, 'I will never get the hang of this, no matter what Jack might believe to the contrary. Maybe I am just too impatient, excepting results right away instead of waiting for the fish to come to me. All the same, let Jack have his fishing, to each their own, as the saying goes.'

Aloud she said. "Jack, I think I heard something. I'm going to check it out."

Jack did not reply at first. "Jack?"

"Hmmm?"

It's probably nothing, but all the same I need to go for a walk, stretch my legs, so I'll go and check out that noise I heard while I'm at it, okay?"

"Okay?"

"Okay, and when you come back, bring the beer, it's in the fridge in the kitchen."

"Lazy bones," Sam remarked, glancing at him. "We get you on vacation and you turn into a lazy lump."

"Yeah, I know," Jack chuckled. "Ain't life grand?"

"I will assume that was a rhetorical question," Sam said.

"Yeah, it is. Try to keep it that way until I come back."

"Whatever you say, Ma'am." Jack said mock-seriously and waved her on her way with his one free hand, the other holding onto his fishing pole.

"I'm going for that walk now." Sam replied and strolled off in the direction of the cabin's north side and up toward the where the road parallel the lake. She reached up and brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen over her eyes as she walked. Just as she was within five feet of the road she was brought up short by a green pick-up truck barreling down the gravel road at a speed that Sam considered considerably reckless for the both the road conditions and the amount of space afforded.

The drive of the pickup truck came to a stop and pulled into a parking spot, rolling down the driver side window as he did so. From Sam's vantage point she observed that the driver was male, white, dark haired and dark-eyed and sported a scruffy dark beard. He also had a passenger in the front cabin, whom Sam at the moment could only see in profile, but it was definitely a woman.

Normally Sam would not have been too concerned over who might be sharing Jack's getaway vacation spot, but something indefinable had triggered that warning of potential danger, which made the fine blond hairs at the nape of her neck to stand up.

Major Sammantha Carter had not climbed the ladders of success and rank in the United States Air force and carved out a career for herself, not to mention survived several bad fights, by ignoring her instincts.

Janet Fraiser rolled down her own window and then unlocked her door and stepped down and out of truck. She thought, 'What possessed me to agree to go fishing with John Winchester anyway? I don't like fishing or lakes, but after what had happened in Illinois, it was probably a good idea to go somewhere where no would think to look for us.'

"Janet," John Winchester asked. "You okay?"

"Fine, but your idea of obeying the speed limit leaves much to be desired."

"Sorry about that," John replied, flushing.

"It's all right, but next time I'm driving."

Sam was just about to turn around and head up to the cabin to get the beer when she was brought up short by both the well-remembered voice and stance of the woman who stood only a few short feet in front of her. It could not be her, the Janet Fraiser she knew and loved had been dead, killed in the line of duty only a few months ago.

It simply was not within the realm of possibility that a living, breathing Janet Fraiser should be here now. But then, both Daniel Jackson and Jack O'Neil had been believed dead and had come back to life, but that had been through the intercession of the alien technology created by the ancients and currently commandeered by the alien Go'uald, the Saracagophus.

Janet had never availed herself of that technology, she had been a member of their off-world team on the planet PCX-1153, when the Gou'ald had sent an army of super-soldiers and Janet had been attending a wounded Air Man, when she had been shot point blank by a laser blaster. No one could have survived that, no one.

Sam knew that to be true, and her professional, logical and scientific part of her nature had long ago come to terms with that fact, but her stubborn personal side had wished many times over that it wasn't true, that it simply could not be true.

"Janet? Janet Fraiser?" Sam whispered.

"Sam! Sammantha Carter?" Janet exclaimed,

"A friend of yours?" asked John curiously and a little suspiciously; in the past few week that he had come to know Janet Fraiser, the last thing he needed to deal with was an old boyfriend, but judging both from what was said as much as by what was left unspoken and the body language it appeared that he had little to fear on that front.

"Oh my god, you're alive!" the blond man who sat perched on the edge of a boulder that jutted out into the lake gasped as all but slid and almost fell flat on his face in his haste to approach Janet and embrace her. "You have no idea how happy I am, I mean, we are to you see you. When you disappeared and we couldn't find, I mean, this is a miracle, seeing you, alive, I mean."

Janet, her voice trembling with both happiness and nervousness, returned Daniel's embrace, "I'm happy to see you, too. Same old, Daniel, I guess some things really do not change all that much."

"Not that I want to cut short this obviously happy reunion," John interrupted, clearing his throat significantly, "Janet, who are these people?"

"They're my friends." Janet smiled. "Jack, Daniel, this is John Winchester," Janet added, John, allow me to introduce you to Jack O'Neill, Dr. Daniel Jackson, Samantha Carter, and Teal.C."

"All right, now that we are all acquainted," Jack said as he stepped forward, can we get on with the fishing, people. This is the first time in possibly a year since I have had a chance to fish and it's almost ten am. We're burning daylight here."

"Gotta love the man's sense of priorities," the blond haired woman introduced as Samantha shook her head in mock severity and humor.

She was flanked by a tall black man wearing a baseball cap that had been pulled down so low that it all but made contact with his eyebrows, that she addressed as Teal'C, and they turned around and began setting up a campsite.

John Winchester was not entirely certain of his facts, however, something here just did not up right. John was having the devil of a time figuring just was that something was at this point. He sighed and run a hand through his the thick hair of his beard, and then gestured for Janet to make the next move.

Conclusion

"You will of course, have disavow any knowledge of what you are about to hear, tonight. It is a matter of the strictest national security, do you understand me?" O'Neill stated.

"Janet is, or was, a member of my unit. We work for the United States Air Force," O'Neill said.

"Oh that went over so well," Daniel interrupted.

"Who's telling this story, me or you?" Jack griped.

"Okay, I'll shut up now."

"The details of the project are, of course, classified. You have our thanks for finding Dr. Frasier and keeping her safe, but she needs to come back with us."

"I know at least one little girl who is missing her Mom something fierce," Sam added.

"Cassie!" Janet gasped. "How could I have forgotten about her?"

"Well," John Winchester replied, "You did come down with a mild case of amnesia." Turning back to face Janet's friends.

"You guys work for the government?"

"Yes," Sam replied.

"Lovely," John sighed.

"And can you explain to me, without going into the classified details," John paused and waggled his fingers in the air when he said the word classified and added, "the nature of that project?"

"We deal with little gray men," Jack sighed.

"Don't you mean little green men?" John asked, thinking as he did so that he had been missing out when his life up until now had solely focused on locating, fighting, and ultimately eliminating things that went bump in the night, when he could have been dealing with the stuff that filled pulp magazines and sci-fiction novels.

With a start John Winchester realized that Janet had also been very careful to steer and deflect his natural curiosity and pointed questions about the nature of her work at the military base in Colorado Springs.

She had not exactly lied to him, but she had been rather evasive. He had not thought too much of it at the time, mainly because his own lie dealt with secrets and playing things close to the vest, and she had been through a very traumatic series of events. This was weird, even for him.

"No I said gray and I meant gray." Jack muttered under his breath, wondering if Janet's surprising revival might have had anything to do with Thor and his Asgard buddies, and then filed the notion away for later use.

"What, are you guys from outer space, or what?"

Jack laughed, pointing over at where the big black man in the baseball cap stood by the cabin wall. "He's from outer space, the rest of just work there from time to time."

"You're just trying to pull my leg, right?" John muttered under his breath.

"John," Janet added. "He is telling the truth, in Jack's own, disgruntled and unique fashion."

John Winchester let out the breath that he had been holding in throughout the quick rapid-fire summation and it came out in a piercing whistle. "My God, this is fricking for real, right? Aliens, off-world travel? The whole shebang.? And you guys work for the government?"

"Yes, we are actually with the United States Air Force, and we will be taking Dr. Fraiser back with us when we leave." Jack said. "We do have one teensy problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"You, complicating matters by getting involved, " Jack said, and then added. "Janet is coming back with us."

"I think that should be a decision that Janet will have to make for herself!" John shouted. His patience had begun to wear a bit thin with the obvious attempt to stymie the new guy with fancy double-talk, or what his younger son, Dean might refer to as smoke and mirrors.

After all, how much of this was true and how much was just some sort of elaborate conspiracy theory; it was anybody's guess on that one.

What mattered to him was Janet. It was not like he had completely forgotten about his late wife, Mary, but he had grown fond of and close to the woman, and he did not want to see anything bad happen to her now, not after everything that she had already been through.

Apparently she had already died once, and if anyone know about dying, it was the Winchesters. One could only dodge that silver bullet so many times before it eventually caught up with you. When it dead, well, John knew all about that, did he not? For Janet Fraiser's sake, he could wish that she never found out what that was like.


	4. The Woman with One Red Shoe

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 belongs to MGM Studios, Gekko Film Corporation, and its related creators and producers as do all of the characters who appear here or are mentioned, they are not mine. Supernatural is the creation of Erik Kripke and the CW television Network, again not mine. Written for crossovers100, prompt 89 she

"The Woman with One Red Shoe" by Karen

'Awkward did not begin to describe it,' Janet Fraiser Janet as she regarded the small gathering of people seated outside of the log cabin on the lake.

As much as she enjoyed back in the company of Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Sam Carter and Teal'C it feel just a little difficult to try to explain away her own well-documented death and by all accounts very well-attended funeral.

It was only after the embraces and the exclamations and the relief at her miraculous return from the dead had worn off, that she recalled something her father had told her, 'everyone should have the opportunity to attend their own eulogy, especially when they're still alive." She hadn't quite understood his meaning when she was a girl, but after having apparently 'died once in the line of duty, she might just about to grasp his meeting.

In the back of her mind Janet felt a little bit angry and a little bit relieved that her memories of the circumstances that had led up to her death' were rapidly fading from her memory.

For his part John Winchester did not seem to mind or even notice the awkwardness, but then it might have been an act. John had his own problems to deal with, but since she was no stranger to weirdness and neither was he.

For the first time in his life since losing the devastating loss of his beloved wife Mary, John Winchester allowed himself to think that maybe, just maybe that he found something good, something worth hanging onto. On the heels of that thought, John wondered if he should call his boys, just to check in on them, not that he wanted to make this into a family reunion.

Maybe that would prove to be a good thing.

At the side of an empty stretch of highway somewhere to the south east the objects of John Winchester's thoughts and somewhat meandering attention were occupied in coaxing, kicking and otherwise hurling verbal abuse at stubborn car engine.

The taller of the pair standing on the shoulder of the road and every now and then offering advice to his older brother.

"Dean, considering how many miles we've put on the engine, it's a wonder it never got out before this," Sam Winchester added.

"No offense, Sammy." Dean Winchester took a deep breath long enough to consider his last remark n Winchester Winchester remarked and then turned his head around and said,

"This is my baby, my car, and I will get the damn engine working again, just unless you have anything else useful to add, please, just shut up."

Just at the last second when Sam would have either felt inclined to continue the argument, knowing full well Dean's hot-headed temper, or just drop it, the engine sputtered into a fitful kind of life. At this point, it was better than nothing, and besides they needed to get the hell out of dodge before the night grew much later.

Sam still was not completely sure they were in the clear in terms of what had happened, but as far as the authorities were concerned Dean was a prime suspect for murder, and it would not do them much good to try and convince the police and even maybe the FBI that the murder victim had actually been a skin walker, a kind of supernatural shape-shifter.

"I think it's working now," said Sam aloud to his brother.

"Yeah, well get in, and step on the gas," Dean replied, "and I'll give it a go."

"Okay." Sam left the side of the road and went stepped around and over to the driver's side, opening the door and taking a seat behind the wheel, and when Dean gave the signal, he stepped on the gas pedal. The Impala coughed and sputtered and eventually responded. "Okay, we're back in business, now get out of there, Sam. I'm driving."

"Figures," Sam replied with a tight smile, "But where to? We haven't heard from Dad in months, he could be anywhere."

Just then Dean's cell phone rang and he reached into the pocket of his leather jacket to answer it. "Winchester here, talk to me."'

The voice on the other end of the line was muffled and gruff, and one that Dean had not heard in a very long time, but unmistakably that of John Winchester.

"Dad!" Dean exclaimed in a muffled undertone. "Where the hell are you?"

"At a cabin somewhere in northern Minnesota," the senior Winchester replied, and before you think to ask, I'm not in trouble, well, not the usual kind of trouble."

Dean, in his current state of mind did not find that last remark at all amusing, and swore a blue streak. "You disappear on me, on us for months at a time, and then only call when you've run up against something you need our help with, and then nothing, nada, zip, and expect us to come running, at the drop of a hat! What the hell is up with that!"

"Dean, calm down. Where are you right now?" his father calmly replied.

"I dunno," Dean shook his head, I think we're somewhere on the interstate between Indiana and Iowa."

"Good, then you're closer than I thought. How so can you get to northern Minnesota?

"I'll give you directions just as soon as I can. I'll explain everything once you and Sam arrive."

"Is that Dad?" Sam asked in a low whisper, hearing only snatches of the conversation and figuring by Dean's reaction who it had to be on the other end of the line.

Sam felt more than a little ambivalent about this, as much as he wanted to find and see his father again, alive and well, he also had built a lot of anger and resentment about John Winchester's frequent and lengthy disappearances. In the back of his mind Sam thought, "This is going to be one hell of a family reunion. I wonder what could of trouble Dad's got into this time. Well, it won't do any good to fret over it. I guess, we'll soon find out.'

Interlude

"Janet, we need to talk," Sam said.

"We do," Janet agreed.

"If that's all right with you, Sir," Sam asked Jack O'Neill.

"I, I guess so," Jack muttered, shrugging his shoulders.

"Emotions are pretty keyed up right now, and I think it might be best to let everyone cool down before we make any hasty decisions," Sam added. "Besides I want to talk to Janet, we've got a lot of catching up to do."

"We're on vacation Major," Jack replied with a tight smile. "You don't have to call me, Sir, and as much as I hate to admit it, you're right."

"This is harder than I thought it would be," Daniel added. "Stranger, too."

"Any stranger than your own miraculous return from the dead?" Jack could not resist teasing the younger man, since Daniel's own death months ago and his own return.

"Yeah, I guess," Daniel shrugged.

"There's nothing we can do about it now," Jack replied turning around and walking back to his chair by the dock. "Let's get back to fishing, I for one am not leaving here until I've caught something."

"At that rate, we might be here longer than our allotted week," Teal'c chimed in.

"Funny, very funny," Jack muttered.

John finished his call and snapped the cell phone shut. "Where's Janet?"

"She went inside the cabin with Sam,' Daniel replied.

"Oh," John said and went over to take a seat on the edge of the dock looking out over the lake. "Well, I'll just wait until my boys arrive. We've got a lot to talk about."

"Funny, that's just want Sam said, too," Daniel added with a sly wink and a nudge.

"Not helping, Daniel," Jack muttered from his seated position. "This vacation is not turning out at all the way I expected it to. Now, I would appreciate a little peace and quiet so I can fish, do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes," a chorus of voices replied.

"Good," Jack nodded and turned his attention to his fishing.

Continued in chapter 5: "Revenant"


	5. Revenant

Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to the WB and Erik Kripke and its related producers as do all of the characters who appear here or are mentioned; they are not mine. Stargate SG-1 belongs to MGM Productions, Glasner/Wright Producers, etc' it is not mine and only 'borrowed' for the purposed of the story. Note: This picks up shortly after where the previous story, "The Woman with One Red Shoe" left off.

Crossovers100 prompt 75 shade

"Revenant" by Karen

"Tea?" Sam offered as she went over to the island counter in the kitchen and began to open up a package from the box. Seeing Daniel come back from the dead via the

technology of the Gou'ald sarcophagi was one thing. Hell, it had become almost common place, but Samantha had reached the point where she just could not take losing one more person that she cared for and loved.

"I'm sorry," Sam mumbled, "All we have is breakfast tea; that's what you get from letting Jack do the grocery shopping."

"I'm not surprised, it is his cabin after all," replied Janet with a fond if somewhat wistful

smile."

"I guess, that explains a lot," Sam chuckled.

For Samantha Carter, Losing Janet that first time had been bad enough and throughout the memorial service and afterwards it had taken here quite a while to accept that Janet was

really gone, but seeing her now; well, as much as she wanted to know the how and why Janet was here now, alive and well, there was no easy way to get around to the way things used to be.

For her part Janet seemed to sense some of that awkwardness and at first engaged in a little small talk, about tea, and sugar, and even was privately glad that Sam was not as eager to dive right in to talking about what had happened to her. Several weeks, since her miraculous 'return from the dead' and she was still not entirely certain in her own mind.

Had John Winchester saved her shortly before her number was up? Would she have

truly died if he had not been there to save her? "So..." she trailed off. "What have you been up to, besides saving the universe and its outlying suburbs?" Janet smiled and stretched out her hands to accept the steaming hot cup of tea and then sat down on one of the chairs around the kitchen table.

A moment later Sam joined her at the table. "Boy," she said and stopped, uncertain of how to launch into all of the questions she had been meaning to ask from the moment Janet and her friend had almost literally stumbled into them, but somehow they all seemed to jumble together

and turn end over end in her mind like rocks to be polished in a rock tumbler.

"Janet, how, I mean, where, I mean, it's so good to see you again."

Janet set down her tea cup and extended her hands to take both of Sam's in hers.

"It's good to be seen. I missed you. It's so rare that we just got some downtime to talk like this."

"I thought you were dead."

"So did I. I mean, I can't tell you what dying is like," she sighed and paused to reach up and finger-comb through the shoulder-length locks of her auburn hair. "Actually I could, but I doubt anyone wants to hear text-book medical explanations, and after everything we've both seen and been through, sometimes I doubt the medical textbooks would include a chapter on aliens."

"No doubt about that!" Sam as she felt some but not all of her initial tension seep out the situation. "Janet, you know I don't believe in all that dues ex machina nonsense, but inquiring minds want to know: I mean, we all saw your body, we were all at your memorial service, so just how did you survive?"

"I'm still figuring that out," replied Janet wistfully.

"Any theories?" Sam asked. As they really got down and began talking Sam began to realize that no matter what happened, whatever agency had been responsible for bringing Janet back, instead of indulging in her tendency to over analyze everything, find logical

explanations for everything; she would simply accept and be grateful to have her best

friend back.

"Same old Sam" Janet laughed. "Right about you, you're probably telling yourself to find

a logical explanation for my return from the dead."

"You can read minds now?" Sam joked.

"Not as much," Janet laughed. "I just think I know you too well. All kidding aside, as a doctor I too have been looking for a nice, neat logical explanation, and I don't mind telling you, up until now I have not been able to find one."

"Okay, okay," Sam nodded, taking a sip from her tea cup and then setting it back down on the table. "For the sake of argument let's say that maybe there isn't a logical explanation, as much as it grates on my nerves to admit to that. So, if that theory holds then by process of elimination there must be what, an illogical explanation."

"Oh, hell yes! To tell you the truth, I am still not entirely certain I can wrap my mind

around it. If you ask John, he's attributed not only my survival but my very presence in the exact time and location to supernatural causes."

It was a good thing that Sam had finished her tea for otherwise she would have spluttered all over her shirt front. "You have got to be kidding me!"

"Yeah, turns out he's pretty heavy into that stuff. Told me that's how he lost his wife,

and now he and his sons are bound and determined that no one else need to endure what he's been through. I wouldn't have believed it either if I had not seen some really 'outer limits' creepy stuff with my own eyes."

"Urban legends, things that go bump in the night, all of that is 'real?"

"If you had never volunteered or otherwise been recruited into the stargate program would you have believed that aliens were real?"

Sam slowly nodded her head while finger-combing the snarls out of the strands of her

blonde hair, "Touché. But really, ghosts?

"Ghosts, but according to John, they prefer to be called poltergeists or phantasms."

"Enough of this, tell me about this John Winchester. What's he like?"

"Figures we'd get around to that sooner or later," Janet laughed.

"He's well, he's nice in a sort of intent, tall-dark and handsome way," Janet laughed.

"Does that sound as crushing and hokey as I think it does?"

"Not even remotely," Sam replied loyally and then added. "Well. maybe a little, but who am I to judge. I mean, I'm not exactly an expert in the relationship field. Do you like him?"

"I guess. But as much as I've come to care for him, I don't think I want to spend the rest of my second chance at life, in the family business."

"Would he ask you to? And what kind of business is he in?" Sam asked.

"Keeping people safe from the monsters in the night."

Sam stared at her and Janet said nothing for a moment before adding, "Are you serious?"

"No, really, I'm serious."

"Oh, I don't doubt that you are, it's just a lot to take in." Sam shook her head and then thought to look down at her wrist watch. "Oh, look at the time, I bet the boys are getting restless out there. Do you want to help get supper ready. I don't know about you. but I'm getting hungry."

"Of course," Janet replied. "Be glad to help. Sam, for what it's worth, thank you. I

honestly did not know what to expect. Hell, I never thought I would see anyone of you again. Thank you; for everything."

***

"What is it?" Jack inquired, curious but not yet alarmed or certain whether or not this stranger presented a threat.

Shortly before sundown the ground-hugging mist had begun to rise and Jack had begun to consider giving up fishing for the day and going inside the cabin to begin fixing something for them to eat for supper when the temperature around the lake had dropped considerably.

Daniel had been pacing up and down the landing dock while Teal'C had dropped off to

sleep in one of the chairs lined up along the edge. Along the far northern tree-line where a stand of oaks, alders, and pine trees hugged the edge of his property the mist was

especially thick, and right up until the point where Jack could have sworn that his eyes and the mist were playing tricks on him, he saw the apparition.

It was human-shaped, stood upright on two legs and had long dark hair. As it approached it's form appeared to waver in an out of definition. It still retained a vaguely human form, but its

features were indistinct; it had two eyes, liquid black, a mouth, a nose, and a sharply pointed chin. It's mouth was wide open as if it wanted to speak, and in the gap thus revealed were a set of very sharp teeth. and a pink tongue.

John Winchester glanced at the three men who claimed to be friends and colleagues of

Janet Fraiser and then back at the apparition, debating whether or not to give the answer that he had been balancing on the edge of blade. In any other company he might not have

hesitated and he was still wondering what was taking his sons so long to get here.

He had called them almost six or seven hours ago, and the way that his younger son, Dean drove and barring any unfortunate snags along the road, they should have been here sooner than this. John told Janet about some but not all of his life, into the closely guarded part of his heart, and he had truly come to care for her and respect her.

However, there was still too many uncertainties in the life he had chosen to live, dealing with the things that went bump in the night, and was it really fair to drag someone into that kind of life without telling them everything that might conceivably come along; that was what had caused him to develop a seemingly impossible to bridge rift between himself and his oldest son, Sam.

John shook his head to rid it of the inevitable cobwebs brought on by his meandering

thoughts and returned his attention to the task at hand. "It's a revenant. I was afraid of this."

"It's a what!" demanded Jack a bit ticked off at the other man's casually studied nonchalance and to add insult to injury, John Winchester seemed to know more about this situation, and wasn't sharing it with the rest of the class.

In the back of his mind Jack did have to wonder, is it that he isn't sharing what he knows, and I really don't trust him anyway. Or is it because he's the one who saved Janet? Jack shook his head and mentally chided himself," COME OFF IT, O'Neill, you're way too old to be jealous of a guy who looks like he shaves himself out of the rear view mirror of that old green pickup truck."

Aloud he said, "Okay, so you've identified the thing. Is it dangerous?"

"Yes and no," John replied.

"So very helpful," Daniel remarked as he left off his pacing and came to stand on the edge

of the dock with the two older men.

"Agreed," Jack nodded.

Hearing the commotion coming from outside the cabin Sam and Janet exchanged one significant glance and ran outside, at the least, the men had gotten into a shouting match that maybe had become more physical. At the worst well, both women agreed that they did not want to contemplate the worst-case scenario.

The small dock was becoming very crowded and the grassy verge that faced onto the property had become equally crowded what with the group of creatures milling around on it. To Jack's way of thinking it was almost mildly amusing the way they ebbed and flowed around the two trucks parked on either side of the gravel driveway.

He darted a glance at Daniel who seemed to regard the situation with that detached yet interested air of a anthropologist faced with a new species or civilization for the very first time. That was okay, as long as Daniel realized that these might not be friendly natives.

He nodded to Sam and Janet as they ran out from the cabin.

"What's going on, Sir." Sam asked.

"That's what I'd like to know."

"I was hoping you could tell us," replied Janet.

"John?" Janet whispered. With a brief nod of his head John turned to Janet and said. "Don't worry, hon. I got this under control. Just stay back; out of harm's way."

And with that, the safety on his rifle off, fully locked and loaded into the firing position, John began to unload pellet of after pellet of rock crystal bullets directly into the fetch; only noting with a flicker of one eyelid that the first creatures had now been joined by a dozen more of its kind.

Once into the motion of fighting John realized that he now could tune out all other distractions, especially when the others gathered on the dock began to shout questions and try to pull him back or stop him.

The big man introduced as Teal'C, a baseball cap pulled low over his wide brow stepped forward and produced a wicked-looking snake-headed weapon out of one of his pockets and began to shoot at the creatures what appeared to John as contained discharges of white lightning.

"Dammit!" John muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "What do you think you're doing! You can't fight these things with lasers. Get the hell outta my way!"

"We're trying to help!" shouted Jack loud enough to be heard over the racket and the confusion.

"I don't think he wants your help," Janet replied in an undertone. She had seen John Winchester get like this any number of times since they had first met.

He, in his own closely guarded and roundabout way had once explained what he had been through and consequently the kind of life he had chosen to live. Although it took her quite a while to wrap her head around the very fact, that one, it had happened, and two that it was real;, not just legends, hyperbole and urban myths. Creatures, ghosts, and other things that went bump in the night, were really out there.

In the back of her mind, 'are ghosts and goblins, and the rest of it really any worse than the parasites, alien and what else we've faced as a team? And how do explain all of that in any coherent fashion to my friends and old teammates?'

Interlude

Dean and Sam pulled up just a few yard short of the cabin, but they could hear the commotion coming from the cabin long before they could actually see what was going on. "Dad's in trouble, again." Sam muttered and then chuckled. "So, what else is new?" he added after a pause of a few seconds.

"What I don't get is why he sounded so urgent on the phone that we haul ass, insisting that we get up here as fast as possible.." Dean turned off the ignition in the car, brought it to stop, then opened the door and got out before adding: "When it looks like he's got the situation well in hand. I mean, a few dozen fetches, come on That's kids-stuff."

"Maybe that's not his only problem," Sam remarked, taking not of the other people gathered on the front porch of the good-sized cabin. "Maybe he's got into trouble with the law. That wouldn't be the first time for him or for us. And some of those folk look like they're more than local authorities."

"If they are, or they aren't. I can deal with the Feds."

"Oh, really? How? By digging through the junk we've got stock-piled in the trunk and yanking out any one of a number of fake Ids?" Sam got out of and walked over to other side of the car and grabbed Dean by one arm. "Oh, I'm sure that would go over 'really' well."

Dean yanked himself free of his older brother's grip and yelled. "Well, smart-ass, you got any better ideas?"

Conclusion

Once the last of the creatures, fetches, whatever one wished to call them had been disposed of, Daniel suggested that they leave the dock and return to the front porch.

Once there Jack launched into John Winchester. In his own mind Jack was not entirely certain if he was more angry at the entire situation or the fact that, even off-duty at his favorite fishing spot; that he was not the one in control.

He had long since come to grips with the fact that his old friend and teammate was alive and well, but to add insult to injury, the man she was with seemed to more than he should about the things that had threatened all of them.

"Okay, care to tell us what the hell that was all about?" demanded Jack stepping forward and yanking the rifle out of John Winchester's hands and tossing it to Daniel Jackson who stood to his left and a few paces behind him with a muttered "Hold onto to this."

"I would, but I sincerely doubt you would believe me," John replied.

"We've got company."

"Great," Sam replied. "Most likely it's the local police."

"Maybe not," Daniel replied. "It's deer hunting season. They're probably used to guns being fired off around here."

"The short one seems a little young to be the police," Sam remarked.

"Dad!" Sam and Dean both yelled as were a few strides of the cabin's front porch.

"Dad?" Sam echoed.

Janet, despite the obvious tenseness of the past half-hour or more could not resist allowing a small smile to slip out. "Didn't I mention he had two sons from a previous marriage."

Sam, too had difficulty mastering her own sense of the absurd and allowing a little bit of levity to lighten up the moment slip out as well. "You might've mentioned that, Janet!"

"Must've slipped my mind," replied Janet, the smile still on her face.

"What were those things," asked Daniel turning to face John Winchester.

"Fine, if you must know, those were fetches."

"Yes, but what manner of creatures threatened us," asked Teal'C.

"Shape-shifters. They can take on the mannerisms, voices, and even the features of any living thing, but come to think of it I've never seen them attack anyone in such numbers."

John, uncertain whether it was own heightened emotions or a trick of the light, but the more he concentrated the more it seemed that the fetches, taking the lead from the initial creature, took on the form of his wife, then his sons, then those he had known in his life, and finally, the form of the woman he was currently with, Janet. He shook his head to clear it of the inevitable cobwebs, and thought, "Way too much of a coincidence, and can't afford any more distractions right now.' I can't tell her that the fetch apparation took on her form, not after everything Janet's been through. I would not do that to anyone, especially someone I've come to care about.'

Shoving the disturbing thoughts and perhaps equally disturbing images into a back corner of his mind, John focused on the task at hand.

"I don't know what's worse; the fact that these things are real, or the fact that you more about them than you should," remarked Sam.

"Ma'am, Sam said as he rushed up to stand beside his father, "I don't see how it's any business of yours how he came by that information."

"Sam," John replied placing one hand on his oldest boy's shoulder. "It's okay."

"But, Dad," Dean chimed in. "You told us to come up here as fast as possible. I nearly totaled the Impala in a ditch during a rain storm…"

"Dean, Dean, Calm down."

"Okay, you've had your little family reunion," Jack said. "I'd hate to interrupt but for crying out loud, could someone please explain what just happened here?"

"Besides now my new friends can met my old ones." "Janet, these are my boys, Sam and Dean, boys, that's Janet Fraiser She's a medical doctor. Although I could have wished we had all met under better circumstances."

Sam shook his head and then as Janet stepped forward he managed to remember a few smatterings of good manners and muttered "Nice to meet you," and shook her hand. His own was so much bigger than her that it swallowed it up. Dean managed to nod and turned back to the crowd of people that were regarding the three of them with varying degrees of anger, curiosity, and doubt.

"Dad, I should let you take the lead here, right?"

"Same old Dean," John replied.

"I think it's fair to say that we've each got our respective share of secrets. And before we dive right into the that area, I think it's fair to say that Janet has told me a little bit about what you do, Colonel O'Neill."

"Military? Oh, hell. The Feds I could've dealt with, not so sure about the military." Dean turned to regard the woman that his father had gotten himself involved with and regarded with a different eye than he had when first introduced to her, a more grudging but respectful eye.

Sam, too, although he was not at all certain if his father considered her just a friend or if he become more serious than that. He did not mind if his father wanted to get involved; after more than twenty years had passed since their mother and John's wife had died in the fire that had nearly taken his own life as a baby; however, was this any different? And how much did this Janet Frasier know already about the kind of life they all lived now?

It was a toss-up and besides they had gotten a lot of experience in dodging around the essential question, especially when faced with the questions likely to be posed by the authorities be they local, state, or even, heaven help them all, representatives of the United Sates military. Aloud he said, "What branch are you with?"

"Air Force," Sam quietly replied. "And try not to worry so much. We don't mean you any harm. In fact, it was at Colonel O'Neill's insistence that we come out here for a little downtime and take in some fishing that we're here at all.

"Thanks. Thanks a lot. I didn't think it would happen, but someone actually managed to ruin fishing trips for me."

"Jack," Daniel chimed in, "You say that now, but I'll lay odds that at the very earliest opportunity for you take some vacation, you'll be out here again. And if those ah, fetches, or whatever they are, come back, it still would not deter you from fishing. So there."

"Shut up, Daniel," muttered Jack under his breath.

Sam Winchester and Janet Frasier began to laugh and Janet said," Are they always like this?"

"A good deal of the time," Teal'C replied.

"So, we cool, then?" Dean asked.

"I am," Daniel replied, and I don't know about everyone else, but I could eat. Is there anything left inside the cabin, otherwise I feel like ordering a pizza, with everything on it."

"Fighting does tend to make people hungry," John added. "I'd say go for it, Dr. Jackson."

"Does anyone care about my opinion?" Jack griped.

"Of course we do, Jack," Daniel grinned and began to walk towards the front door, "It's just that you've been outvoted."

"Shut up, Daniel and go make the call, I could eat, too."

"Yes, Sir."


	6. If a Tree Falls

Disclaimer: Supernatural is the creation of Erik Kripke and the CW Network; it is not mine. Stargate SG-1 and all of the characters who appear here or are mentioned belong to MGM, Gekko Film Corp etc. Note: this story picks up shortly after where the previous one "Reveant" left off and was for the live journal community, crossovers  
100, prompt #77 tree.

"If a Tree Falls" by Karen

When the pizza at last arrived everyone went into the cabin in order to share it, but as it was Janet felt it was only to be expected that the table in the dining room would not be big enough to accommodate everyone so she decided to take hers into the living room followed a moment or two later by Sam, Daniel and Teal'C. She took an  
uncertain and concerned glance back at John Winchester and his two boys.

For her part, she really had been looking forward to meeting Sam and Dean Winchester, because John in his own gruff and taciturn manner it had been readily apparent how much love he had for them; but not like this.

There was so much left unsaid, and it was too unpredictable at this point to get it all out in the open, and even they had a heart-to heart discussion about all the things that neither of them could really talk about, would it make any difference? Would it change how they felt about each other?

And it had a lot more riding on it than just their personal lives.

She had known John Winchester long enough now that he made a peace of sorts between his personal life and his professional life, as weird it as sometimes was, walking with eyes wide open in the heart of the world of the paranormal.

If Janet Fraiser had not seen with her own two eyes and the evidence of her own senses the existence of things just as strange if not your everyday 'go bump in the night' apparitions, then just as alien prior to signing on as the chief medical officer with the Stargate Command program, perhaps she might not have been so sanguine about it. However, as she began to eat her slice of pepperoni pizza; she could finally admit  
that she could finally manage to wrap her head around it all.

Settling down in a the leather seat of the couch and realizing that even as these thoughts went through her mind the changing expressions on her face must be as readily apparent to her friends as well. Aloud, she, said. "They need to have it out, don't they?"

"If you by they, you mean Jack and your friend John," Carter sighed and added. "Then, yes."

"Janet," Daniel began and they trailed off realizing that he had managed to get a drizzle of melted cheese stuck  
in his hair when he had reached up to brush it out of his eyes. "I can't tell how glad I am to see you alive. I don't care how it was possible, just that I'm glad you're alive."

"Yeah, yeah, nice reunion and all, but who the hell are you people," Dean demanded.

"We're Janet's friends," Sam replied so just relax."

"What if I don't feel like relaxing?" Dean replied.

"This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, and while I don't feel inclined to get up from this nice comfy recliner if you continue to act like a jerk, I will rise up from this chair and make you 'relax," Samantha Carter added in icy but very calm tone. "Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Sam Winchester came up to stand beside down and reached out place a calming hand on his brother's shoulder. "Dean, this really isn't a good time to press matters. Leave off, okay?"

Dean growled and then nodded. "Yeah, Yeah. But I don't have to like it." And with a glance at Sam Carter almost literally threw himself bodily into another nearby chair. Sam sat down on the far side of the couch.

"Is he always like this?" Daniel asked.

"More or less," Sam replied and returned her attention to eating her own slice of pizza but not before darting an appraising and meaningful glance in Dean's direction. With a nod that all was as well as could be expected in that corner she decided matters were under control; at least for now.

***  
"For cryin' out loud!' Jack exclaimed. "Where do you get off waltzing into my cabin, my place to get away from it all with ….easy as you please and…"

"Tell me something, Colonel O'Neill, because I am having a very difficult time figuring this out," replied John, " What are you more pissed off at, the fact that we came here unannounced and maybe uninvited or that fact we're here now?"

"Either or both, what the hell difference does it make?" muttered Jack turning his body slightly away so that he could work off a little of his anger, wondering even as he did so if he wanted to. He wanted to hit something and after the encounter with the fetches or whatever the hell those things had been, John Winchester made a very appealing and very handy target as an outlet for both his anger and frustration.

Janet Fraiser was alive and well, that thought kept percolating through his mind very similar in nature to the donkey tied to the lunge line on a mill, going around and around in circles but getting nowhere very fast. "At least tell me where you found her?

"Look, I understand that you believed Janet was did, did a whole military funeral service and the eulogy, and the works;" said John. "And I gather that she meant more to you than just a colleague or even a friend. I get, really I do."

Jack pivoted around once more and grabbed the other man by the lapel of his plaid shirt collar that could be seen through the zipped down front of his leather jacket. "Do you get it?

"This isn't just about how we feel about her. It's well complicated," Jack replied.

"Is that what you military types always use as an excuse when stuff like this happens?" John asked.

Jack released his grip on the other man's collar and took a step back. "I dunno. It does seem that way and it does make things a damn sight easier. I just never noticed it before."

"I get the general impression that all we've been doing is dancing around the central subject."

"Which is?"

"What does Janet want to do? I mean you, after everything that's happened your not simply going to order her to resume her duties with your unit are you?" John asked.

Jack shrugged. "What we say, that the rumors of her death were greatly exaggerated. Yeah, I bet the General would just love that one and despite how I feel about you, you damn impertinent bastard, you are right about one thing."

John shrugged and folded his arms across his chest. "Just one thing?"

"I could and would make it an order, but Janet deserves better than that. It should be her decision." Jack sighed. "Well, nobody said this was going to be easy. Hey, not to change the subject on you, but are you gonna eat that last slice of pizza?

"Uh, no. Go right ahead," replied John with a gruff chuckle. He had never liked military types despite his own brief stint serving in the armed forces and command types especially but despite his their obvious difference.

There were many and their own established positions on the matter at hand he actually found himself at least growing to actually Colonel Jack O'Neill. He wasn't a bad sort and he obviously cared a great deal about Janet Fraiser; maybe just maybe it would be in everyone's best interests if let her make her own decision and if that decision meant letting her go her own way; John realized with the suddenness of a sucker punch to the gut, that he could live with it.

"I'm going outside," Jack muttered as he loped over to the front door, swung it open and walked out onto the porch. "There's more beer in the fridge should anyone want some and a cooler out back."

"Thanks," John replied as O'Neill walked out the door and on down to have a seat on the dock.

***  
Scene 3 John, Sam, Dean Interlude in the Den

"We don't talk about these things, much, huh?" John opened as soon as he had felt composed enough after his 'talk' with Colonel to get his boys alone and have it out with them. In this age of cell phones and texting it had been much easier to keep emotions and practicalities at a distant remove. He had told his boys as much as he could about his relationship with Janet; well, just that he was in a relationship; and that was it.

Being constantly on the move, never settling down in one place for any length of time, and having to always be watching one's back for the kinds of trouble; of both the mundane kind and the paranormal, well, one did that as a matter of survival.

"Sam?"

His youngest boy, taller than Dean by a good several inches and the one whom the powers that be for whatever reason had seen fit to single out, sat stiffly in the chair and held his body ramrod straight as if a metal girder had been attached to his back. That he was angry was an understatement.

"Dean?" prompted John. "Ok, so you found another woman. And I guess, at this point I really don't give a damn what you do with your personal down time, Dad…" Dean muttered and then walked up and stabbed an accusing finger at his father. "But why the hell did you have to pick some attached to the 'fricking' United States Air Force?"

"I didn't know that, when I met her," John shouted back.

John's determination to have a frank and honest discussion with his boys about his relationship and his decision to end it so that Janet could have a chance to start her life over without the headaches and troubles that seemed to follow anyone connected to the Winchester family had somehow become derailed.

John, at this point, was not entirely certain had to get back on track, and in the back of his mind, 'Do I want to you. We seem to solve a lot of things by shouting our opinions on the subject at each. Why should this time be any different?'

"I should not think you're trying to replace Mom," Sam muttered under his breath.  
"Not for all the world,' whispered John back.

"I told Janet as much," John paused and shrugged. "As much as I felt I could comfortably and safely tell her without endangering the mission or her, or you."

"Yeah, right. And I'm the 'fricking "Easter Bunny," Dean muttered.

"And honestly, Air Force or not, and there's a lot I don't understand about exactly what she did with those folks out in the living room," John replied, we both got stuff we can't really talk about. Janet because she signed some stupid non-disclosure argreement."

"Yeah, typical military,' Sam remarked.

"Sam, if even half of what I understand is true, the Air Force have a very good reason to keep what they're doing classified and out of the hands of the general public,"

"What do you mean by that?" Sam asked interested in spite of his own anger and skepticism.

John shook his head and crossed the space to a chair in the den where he sat down heavily, realizing that he was bone weary and motioned to Dean to sit down as well.  
"Well, let me put it this way: "Do you believe in little green men. Actually, I misspoke the aliens aren't green at all, some are grey."

"Wait a second, are you telling me that 'aliens' are real? All that nonsense about the Roswell incident in the 40's and UFOS and little green men," Sam exclaimed.

"Yeah and the special division of the Air Force which this people are from know about them.

"And you believe her?" Dean yelled.

"She was nearly killed by a much more deadly kind of alien. Yeah, I believe her. Even I've never laid my eyes on one."

"So what now?" Dean asked.

"I honestly don't know. I just wanted you to know. What happens next is Colonel O'Neill's cal," John replied.

"Do you love her?" Sam asked thinking of his own relationship with Jess and how it was so tragically cut short.

"Janet, hell yes," John replied," But I think I love her enough that I have to let her go."

Scene 4 Traveling to Colorado Springs

Jack came into the den and said: "Good, you're all here. I just wanted to let you that we're heading out in two hours. If you want to stick around the cabin, feel free to do so, just don't blow it up or trash it while we're gone."

"What about Janet?" John asked.

"What about me?" Janet said as she came into the den.

"Janet, hon," John began.

"You don't have to say anything. The walls in here are pretty thin and you were not exactly making any effort to be subtle about it. I understand you've reached a decision about where we stand."

"I think…"…John trailed off. "That it is for the best."

"You might have asked me," Janet said.

"And if I had?" John replied.

"I honestly don't know what I would have said. "Now, I think it is for the best. Sometimes if you love something enough you have to be willing to let it go. I'm sorry, John."

"Don't be, Janet."

"I'm sorry, Dad,' Sam muttered under his breath and hooked an elbow under Dean's arm. "Let's go to another part of the cabin."

"But…" Dean protested.

"Just go." Sam replied and stood up dragging Dean with him brushing by O'Neill on their way out of the den.

Jack nodded. "I guess I'll leave you two alone to say your uh, goodbyes." and then walked out of the room as well.

John stood up and stood awkwardly in front of Janet with his arms hanging loosely at his sides before he could think better of it and for her part Janet finally could not stand that soulful determined look in his dark brown eyes and almost simultaneously they embraced each as their lips met for one final kiss goodbye; they stood locked together like that for a very long time.


	7. Alice in Fragments

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters belong to MGM Productions, Renaissance Pictures and Gekko Film Corp etc; they are not mine. Supernatural is the creation of Erick Kripke and the CW Television network. Note: The story picks up shortly after where the previous one: "If a Tree Falls (Does Anyone Hear It) left off. Written for crossovers100 challenge prompt #64 Fall

"Alice in Fragments" by Karen

Dean had always hated flying and in his case, and after the experience they had been endured aboard a commercial aircraft that had nearly cost both of them of their lives along with hundreds of others; Dean hated flying even more.

The fact that this aircraft happened to be a Blackhawk souped military chopper only compounded matters even further.

As queasy as he felt he still refused to let it show, not that anyone packed as tight into the aircraft, and it was definitely a tight fit much akin to of proverbial can of sardines, were paying any attention to him. He still was not entirely certain that his father's decision to break up with Janet had been the correct one but he trusted his father and  
found that he could accept it.

The fact of the matter was he had never really considered that his father could have had anything resembling a normal well, love life, especially after the death of his wife, what with the 'family' business' and all.

Things that went bump in the night usually had a disturbing tendency to target your loved ones.

'Just take Sam, for example and his girlfriend, Jess. But that was over and done with. It was time to move on.

Of the two brothers; Dean had always been the more practical and forward-looking. I had to be. As the older brother it was my job, my responsibility and even so I might have done it anyway because Sam needed me," he thought and then had to suddenly bend over at the waist and place his head between his knees to keep himself from having deja vu  
with his breakfast. It helped, just a little bit.

When the bout of nausea paused and he could sit straight in his bucket seat Dean glared around at the other passengers and growled. "Can't this fricking hunk of junk go any faster!"

Janet glanced over at him and said. "If it went any faster, you really would have something to complain about."

Dean shrugged and replied. "So, are we there yet?"

"Ignore him," Sam added. "He doesn't like flying."

"That's hardly any excuse to curse like a sailor," Sam Carter added from a ways down the aisle.

"Okay, okay, you've made your point," Dean replied subsiding back into his seat. "I'll shut up now."

***  
"Hammond is no longer our CO, Janet," Daniel remarked to Janet once the Black Hawk had touched down on the ground in front of long and winding dirt road that led into entrance into what appeared to be an underground complex. "I understand, did he retire?"

"No, but while a lot of things have changed around here...."added Daniel and then shrugged helplessly, "a lot of things have remained the same."

"Sounds about right either way. It's going to be nice to get back to work after everything that's happened," Janet replied.

"We have a new Chief Medical Officer," Jack remarked over his shoulder from his seat in the front of the jeep.

"Oh, I guess it would make sense to fill the position, since I was 'ah' deceased," replied Janet.

Daniel, unable to restrain himself and rather ambivalent if he even should, burst out with a loud guffaw and said: "Hey, you can only die once, me, what's my track record now. At least five, six times?

"For cryin' out loud, Daniel!" exclaimed Jack," It's not a damn competition, and you really need to stop making a habit out of it. IXNAY on the DOA, huh, what don't you? We got company, remember."

"Inquiry," Teal'C added. "Why did we bring them?"

"Because I said so," Jack replied and glared, "and that's all I say on the matter until we meet with General Landry."

Once the initial introductions were out of the was and everyone had taken a seat at the long rectangular conference table there was the unavoidable moment of awkward silence before General Landry deliberately cleared his throat and said simply: "Welcome back, Dr. Fraiser. It would appear that the rumors of your death were greatly exaggerated. I will have to think on just how to go about reinstating your position here, but until such time I think it would be best for you to get to you Dr. Lam and then get back to work. The paperwork alone will be a nightmare, but that's my lookout."

"Thank, General Landry," replied Janet.

"Sir," Jack O'Neill said. "This is gonna sound strange, well strange enough for us, but Janet was dead, we all saw it, saw what happened to her on PCX 15, and how she managed to wind up somewhere in the East Coast, very much alive, I don't care to know. I'm just glad that she is alive and well."

"May I ask why you brought these two young men here? I trust they've been given the proper security checks and clearance," Landry asked turning to Dean and Sam Winchester. "Were you the ones who found her? If so, you have our thanks."

'No, actually, it was our father who did," replied Sam, "but," he shrugged. "Truth to tell, I'm not really certain myself how it happened. Dad's always been a bit, well, aloof when it comes to things like that."

"I had a little chat with your dad, Sam, Dean, and in the course of that, I managed to get a few pertinent details of your ah, 'family business.". Jack shrugged. "It's not exactly your average mom-and pop grocery store, is it?"

"No," Dean blurted and thrust himself forward in his chair. "Will you tell us why we're here!

"Because, I'm still not entirely certain that your dealings are not in some way impinging on our effort to keep this ah, country safe from those both foreign and domestic, and well, honestly I'd rather deal with you to than your father." Jack sighed and reached up to brush a hand through his cropped hair. "Honestly, why do you do what you do, anyways?"

"Wait, just a minute, Jack, before you go flying of the deep end. If your accusing them of committing a crime they are still American citizens and still innocent before being proved guilty." Landry sighed. "What did they do?" and why you could not have let local authorities deal with the problem?"

"Because local authorities don't have a paranormal unit to handle this," Carter added.

"Paranormal," Sam muttered under his breath with a shaky little laugh. "Come on, you gotta being kidding me right?" he added darting a sideways significant glance at Dean thinking back to a previous encounter with FBI agents in Las Vegas, Nevada and wondering if they had not gotten off from that encounter as easily and cleanly as they had previously believed.

Sam Winchester found himself worrying over the possibility that those very same G-Men had turned over both their dossier, file and descriptions over to this particular branch of the United States Air Force.

If that was the case, they just be in serious trouble here.

Dean noted the glance without giving away that he had and demanded. "  
"Well, I'm waiting here!"

"I think it's time they knew, Jack," Daniel Jackson remarked.

"What I'm trying to say, and this is hard for me, is that you and your little ghost and ghoulie hunt might just be more dangerous than you. Have you ever heard about a man who dealt in preying on people's fears and then bilking them out of every penny?"

"Sounds like a cultist," Dean replied, So what, they're everywhere these days."

"Yes, but I'm referring to one in specific," Jack said. "Tell me something, exactly what do you do?"

"We're ghost hunters, it's a relatively harmless pastime, it's certainly no reason to bring us for questioning as a threat to national security," Sam replied.

"It is when your 'harmless' pastime nearly cost one of our her life; again?" Jack insisted.

"That's what this is about?" Landry exclaimed. "Jack, how many times have I told you not to put your personal feelings ahead of the mention! I'm glad she's alive and all and that you brought her home, but this…." he trailed off in a spluttering exasperation.

"Relax, Sir." Carter offered. "He' not really as mad at you as he appears to be."

"Great, Carter," Jack sighed. "I know, but I'm willing to take it when does decided to get back at me for this. Still, it's worth it, I guess."

"At this point," Daniel remarked, "What do we do with them?"

"Set them up in accommodations, allow them access to the mess hall and possibly the recreation area. Again, they are civilians and they haven't done anything wrong. You did say you were ghost hunters?" said Landry with a sigh.

"Yes," Sam replied.

"As I was saying, but limit their access to secured areas, and have Dr. Jackson or Teal'c act as escort. We have a great deal to catch you up on what's been happening while you were off on vacation." finished Landry.

"Understood, Sir," Daniel Jackson replied.

"Colonel?" Landry pressed. "Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"As crystal, Sir," Jack replied.

The mess hall was crowded when Dr. Daniel Jackson and Teal'C escorted them in. The people occupied in either eating, drinking, or making conversation with their table mates glanced up incuriously as they entered and took a seat at an empty table.

They had just sat down to eat a meal that consisted of macaroni and cheese and a glass of milk when the lights dimmed, flickered and completely went out, and then given an interval of approximately three to five minutes, came back on and repeated the same pattern.

"Forgot to pay the electricity bill," Sam casually remarked.

"No, and the backup generators and fail-safes should have kicked in by now, even if we had," replied Daniel

"Call Sam, see if she can get on this…

Daniel stood up and went over to the phone mounted on wall near the entrance and had just picked it up and was in the process of punching in the code when a buzzing and clicking forced him to hold the phone as far away from his hear as he possibly could because of the increased volume of the static coming through the receiver.  
"What the hell?

Apparently, he was not the only person in the room experiencing similar difficulties, anyone who had even a laptop, or any other kind of device that ran on electricity or even on batteries had suddenly began to see sparks, and alternately repeating cycles of dimness followed by brightness. Curses and mutterings were heard as those working on their laptops cursed about losing whatever data they had not yet saved.

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, and in that telling look they could each tell what the other was thinking; this kind of was very much in keeping with a level one or two spectral manifestation.. In the back of his mind, Dean also was wondering just how to go about telling the members of SG-1 without getting them both into any further trouble than they already were in. But first things first, Sammy," Dean said aloud. "Let's take care of this little ah problem, for them, and maybe they'll be in a more receptive mood, huh?"

"Agreed," Sam replied unable, despite the circumstances and his own doubts about Dean's plans in general and his own need to play things close to the vest, allowed himself a tight conspiratorial grin to slip out. Ghosts he understood, alien and high-technology he did not, but in this situation, they were the ones to turn to for a low-tech solution.

Sam and Dean got up from the table shoving their tray aside ignoring the curious looks from Daniel Jackson and Teal'c and the mildly neutral suspicious glares of the armored and armed marines assigned to them as their escort and shoved past them on their way out the door and into the passageway outside.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going" Daniel yelled after their retreating backs.

Over his shoulder. "I hate even to say this, because it grinds every last bone in my body," Dean sighed. "When things go bump in the night, who you gonna call?"

"Don't tell me," Daniel muttered under his breath. "You think what we're dealing with her, the thing causing this bizarre power fluctuations are what? Ghosts?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you." Dean replied folding his arms over his chest.

"Hey, where did you guys put our stuff?" Sam shouted from his position half-in and half-out of the open doorway.

"I've got some, uh, supplies in my jacket, Sammy."

Shouts and thuds coming from farther down the long corridor and around the corners momentarily interrupted whatever the conversation as Sam and Dean sprinted out the door and directly towards the commotion. Daniel and Teal'c sighed and signaled the three marines to follow.

When they arrived they Jack, Sam and another platoon of marines squaring off against something that resembled an opaque cloud of mist, thick through the middle and tapered at the top and bottom. The amount of ordnance and firepower that they were pounding into it seemed to have little effect on the creature, for it simply shimmered in and out of sight much like the lights and the computer screens had done earlier.

"Nice of you to join us," Jack muttered in aside to Daniel, Teal's and the Winchester brothers as they ran up and skidded to a stop just outside where the others held their attacker at bay.

Ghost or ghosts plural or not, that it meant business and was dangerous, was no longer a doubt in Daniel Jackson's mind. On the heels of that particular thought he turned to Dean and Sam Winchester. "Okay, you claim to be some kind of expert on spectral manifestations, any ideas on how we go about getting rid of 'that? And pointed at the grey/black cloud of mist.

"Get out the rock salt

"There are ghosts, and then there are ghosts, I think what we're dealing with here falls into the latter category, uh, Sir." Sam said to Colonel O'Neill. "And pumping ammo into is not going to do much…"

"Other than waste our firepower," Jack griped.

"So, what do you suggest," Samantha Carter asked.

"Stand back." Dean said and then bent down and began to sprinkle something that appeared to be handfuls of a grey black sand over the ground in a concentric ring.

The misty creature held back for a moment and then launched itself at Dean where he crouched on the ground and gave a howling screech that punished the ears of everyone gathered in the corridor. It's size and shape shimmered and then reappeared more solidly than ever, gaining in size and mass as it did so.

"For cryin' out loud," Jack griped. "This will never work."

"Yes it will. Just give at a chance," Dean replied.

Then an n invisible force, whether generated from the concentric ring of sand, or by something else entirely, it began to shrink. There was a long awkward and tense silent hush and a gasp, and a shriek and the misty creature disappeared as if it had never been.

"Not bad, huh?" Sam asked of the room in general.

Jack could only stare at the patch of metal flooring and the burnt and acrid smell of smoke and shake his head. "I saw it with my own two eyes and I still can't believe that worked."

Conclusion

"So, you're pretty good at being ghost-hunters? I don't even want to know why," Samantha Carter sighed and reached over to please a companionable arm on Dean's shoulder. "Thanks for the save, by the way."

"Ah, your, ah welcome, ah, Ma'am." Dean muttered, suddenly uncertain in just what approach to take with the attractive woman.

The fact that she handled something that looked very much like UZI with both deadly aplomb and accuracy and the military stripes on the shoulder of her uniform jacket put some distance between him. Now, if she were in a bar or somewhere else less formal then he might have been more sure of himself, more willing to turn on the famous Dean Winchester charm full-blast.

"Don't call me, Ma'am," Samantha Carter replied."

"Sure, no problem," Dean replied. As it was he just settled for a causal shrug and a nod.

"There as ghosts, and then there are 'ghosts," Sam Winchester replied. "The trick is in sorting out just exactly which category these fell into."

"I suspect, you'll fill us in on all the details, right, Mr. Winchester," Daniel added with a grin. "I can't wait to hear all about it."

"You know something, Daniel," Jack muttered. 'You're damn curious for your own good. Have I told you lately that it's gonna get you killed one of these days?"

"No, not lately," Daniel replied.

"I can vouch for that," Samantha added.


	8. What the Living Do

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters belong to MGM Productions, Renaissance Pictures and Gekko Film Corp etc; they are not mine. Supernatural is the creation of Erick Kripke and the CW Television Network

Note: The story picks up shortly after where the previous one: "Alice in Fragments" left off and was written for the crossovers100 challenge prompt #59 food

"What the Living Do" by karen

"Maybe they were hungry," Sam offered.

"By definition, "Teal C offered, "Ghosts are the spirits of those who were once living but are dead, what could such spirits want with the living?"

"Do the Jaffa believe in ghosts?" asked Daniel.

"Not precisely, no, "Teal C replied.

"They?" Carter asked in spite of her innate skepticism.

"I get the distinct impression that there were more than one mind behind that swirling vortex of electro-magnetic energy, "Sam Winchester replied, "and they were hungry for something, even it wasn t food as we would define it."

"I don't believe in ghosts, and I refuse to understand why you insist on making me believe in ghosts," Jack insisted.

"I'm only insisting, as you put it," Dean shouted, "because it judging by the evidence and our own senses, is that you've experienced a major spectral incursion."

"I do not. I will not. So, just shut up about it." Jack yelled back and for good measure he added in a calmer tone, "End of conversation."

Wait a damn sec! Dean exclaimed to Colonel Jack O Neill s retreating and stubbornly set back as the older man disappeared around a bend in the long corridor and then found himself sputtering in mingled frustration and anger.

"What the hell!"

"Sam Winchester stepped forward and linked his elbow through his younger brother's arm. "Let it go, Dean. Let it go."

"In the meantime," Sam Carter added. "I think it would be best if we all had a cooling-off period. I don t know about the rest of you, but I for one could certainly use it."

*  
Interlude

Daniel Jackson strode down the corridor whistling off-key and nodding in a friendly if in his typically distracted fashion to the techs, marines and sundry base personnel that he passed on his way to the quarters assigned to the two Winchester brothers.

Whether or not the their shared experience with the electro magnetic being had in fact been an actual spectral incursion or something more along the lines of the incident several years back with Apophis; the fact remained that it had sparked his seemingly unquenchable curiosity in their knowledge of the paranormal. On the heels of that Daniel had decided to use the downtime to probe more deeply into the matter.

He reached the junction of where two corridors meet and turned left, expecting to see the marines assigned to Dean and Sam as escorts while they were at the base, and he saw them all right, except they were lying on the floor with their clothes rumpled and unconsciousness, a small swath of dried blood coating their hands and the sleeves of their jackets.

Surprise had not yet turned to alarm as Daniel bent down and checked their for a pulse; heaving a sigh of relief when he found it, Daniel went to the wall phone and grabbed it, shouting into the audio pickup and said: "This is Dr. Jackson. I ve got two men down and send a medical emergency team to my location immediately."

On the other end of the line he could hear Sam Carter reply, " Roger that, please give your location."

Daniel looked at the markers and lights on the wall and replied, "Modular Unit 751-B, cross Corridor 6."1.

"Acknowledged," Carter replied. "We're on our way."

"Thanks," Daniel replied and ended the call.

That done he went over to the quarters and found it empty of all occupants. He sighed, either they had left of their own accord or something else was afoot. Daniel sighed and reached up to try and finger-comb the worst of the tangles from his mane of blond hair.

"I hope this is nothing more than a case of someone going stir-crazy."

*  
Janet Frasier had just reached the midpoint of going through the medical charts of both the support and base personnel that she was familiar with prior to her death and had now moved on to the new ones. General Landry had been correct about one thing it really had helped to throw herself back into her work even if she was no longer the chief Medical Officer on duty and working with Dr. Carolyn Lam had been much easier than either woman had anticipated.

In fact Carolyn had been extremely helpful in getting to know the ins and outs of what had happened while she was gone. In the back of her mind Janet was still uncertain if she wanted to know the details of her funeral eulogy, and it was a subject that none of her friends and teammates felt comfortable discussing. In the back of her mind Janet could not helping summoning up an old saying that a maternal grandmother had once told her when she had announced that she planned to go into medical school and become a doctor- Everyone should be present at their own eulogy, especially when their still alive. At the time the younger Janet had known precisely what to make of such a seemingly contradictory statement, but now since her death she was beginning to understand.

She sighed and at that precise moment a beep coming from The signal on her computer beeped indicating that had just received an incoming message.

Swiveling around in her chair she used one hand to lay the charts on top of the desk and her remaining free hand to silence the beep in order to respond to the incoming message.

Checking the identity of the sender while waiting for the message to be routed and scanned through the intricate computer checking security software Janet gasped when she realized that it had come from John Winchester. She allowed herself a ting wry smile, and thought Typical, if anyone would try and get through to me here, it would be him. And the fact that he agreed to sign and non-disclosure document certainly would not deter if he felt that urgently about getting in touch with me.

She settled into her chair to read the message :

Janet: I figured what the hell. I know what you re probably thinking, and you'd be right. I really should not hack into your top secret muckety-muck military system. You know that and I know that, but I had to get in touch with you. I realize that we both agreed that we should call it quits, for both our sakes.

As I write this, I find that I need to be on the move, things in the uh, family business are heating up and I need my boys with me. Truth to tell I honestly don t understand why your Colonel O Neill thinks paranormal ghost hunters are a threat to national security, but there you are.

I guess, before this gets any longer or my hacking is traced back to my location,. I just want to say that regardless of what we meant to each other, and it was a good ride, hon, I just got a ransom note from something called the NID? Ring a bell? Says they got ties to the SGC, which I m guessing is part of your outfit. All I m asking for is either some information on the jerks who took my boys, or a little help. All my best, John

Janet sighed and terminated the session on her computer and then leaned back in her chair thinking even as she did so that it certainly would not the first or even the last time that various members of the NID felt that they could interfere with either the SGC or even the Air Force s mission or personnel with impunity and get away with it. Janet was also well aware of Colonel Jack O Neill s strong and perhaps well-found feelings on the matter.

When the NID felt like interfering they usually had a rather predictable modus operandi, but to waltz into the Cheynne Mountain base and sneak off with two civilians, well, either they were trying to mix it up a bit, or something else was going on. Either way, such underhanded tactics could not go unpunished. Janet stood up and strode across the floor of the infirmary to the door and General Landry s office.

*  
She met up with Dr. Carolyn Lam, and the other members of the SG-1 just in time to see them wheeling Sergeants Wilkins and Johnson, the pair of marines assigned as escorts to the Winchester boys.

"I guess you know, that we're currently short two ghost-hunters, "Jack tersely explained, "and we ve got two good men down for the count."

"What you may not know is that their disappearance has been liked to operatives from the NID," Janet briskly replied.

"For cryin' out loud," Jack muttered. Can t those leeches leave well enough alone?"

"Apparently not," Daniel sighed.


	9. Burning Daylight

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters belong to MGM Productions, Renaissance Pictures and Gekko Film Corp etc; they are not mine. Supernatural is the creation of Erick Kripke and the CW Television Network, for Supernatural takes place. Note: The story picks up shortly after where the previous one "What the Living Do" left off. and was written for the crossovers100 challenge prompt #11 red

"Burning Daylight" by Karen

"I don't know about anyone else," remarked Daniel as he leaned over the divider that separated the front of the jeep from the rear and peered over the edge, "but I'm beginning to think that this becoming too much of a game of cat and mouse. "

"You were the one who said that they were most likely kidnapped because of their connection to Janet," Sam remarked concentrating on her driving over the rough and rocky up and down roads that traversed the side of the mountain. "Janet, are you certain that the ransom note said to head north into the mountains?"

"As certain as I can be," Janet replied.

"Seems to me," Jack added, that Daniel might have something here. It's too easy, too pat, like whoever within the NID organization was responsible for their abductions wants to be found."

"We'll know soon enough," Janet replied.

"Just out of curiosity," Jack added. "Just how much are we talking about here? A thousand, ten thousand?"

"Does it really matter?" Sam muttered.

"I guess not," Jack shrugged, but I was curious."

"Knowing their father, he's most likely already half way there. I really do hope John does not do anything rash that will either jeopardize Dean and Sam's lives…"

Daniel shook his head and turned to Janet," Look we don't want anything to happen to them, but I guess, what you're trying to avoid saying… is. If the NID are using this as a kind of leverage…to make us

"Either they want to pry into mission specifics, stuff that really isn't any of their business..

"Or, they might be using this as more fuel to the fire," Teal'C added, up until the quietest member of the group. "As a means to shut down the Stargate Program."

"You suspect Senator Kinsey might be the one calling the shots?" Jack muttered under his breath. "I could have sworn I smelled a rat, and it's got his name written all over it."

**

Dean and Sam faced off against the crossroads demon who had taken on the form of a United States Senator who identified himself as Kinsey; causing Dean to briefly wonder if throughout their previous encounters if the demon had developed a taste for irony, and if so, if it knew how much dislike Dean had for authority and people in uniform.

"We meet again," the demon remarked, "and really, my faith in you two has hardly been misplaced, although, now that I think on it, it is difficult to say which off us made off better on the deal, eh, Dean?"

"Shut your friggin mouth!" Dean yelled as he squirmed around on the hard-packed floor unable to move any part of his own body except for his head for without so much as lifting a finger the yellow-eyed demon held both Winchester brothers pinioned to the wall.

"Dean, Dean, it seems that while you have learned much during our acquaintances, manners still elude you."

"What's up with the suit?" Sam gasped, his own voice a dry rasp.

"Ah yes, I had almost forgotten about you, Sam, dear boy?" Oh, and to answer your question, there are indeed more things in heaven and earth than are dream of in your philosophies; the yellow-eyed demon cocked his head to one side as if thinking something over before he added: "Is that not how that old philosopher's phrase goes?

"Anyway, I've been traveling, learning new things as I go, and I happened to come across this lovely little installation. It seems that while my and my mine have been stirring things about from below; we've completely missed out that there are those out there from above who have designs of their own."  
"Huh?" Dean asked, wondering even as he did so, if the demon really had learned to read minds or the choking, dry, cold sensation of all-pervading numbness that made his body feel like a lump of cold clay, had dulled his wits. He swiveled his head to dart a significant glance at his brother who was panting shallowly nearby a look of mingled hope, rage and fear twisting his features. Sometimes, in situations like these, the brothers could sometimes tell what the other was feeling, thinking without any words being spoken.

In the back of his mind Dean thought that the reason the demon had chosen to act now was not so much for anything they had done recently to halt the influx of his ilk into the mortal world, but for their brief encounter with the Air Force and their pet project.

If that was the case, Dean thought and saw the same thought flicker across Sam's face as well, then the demon would be in for a big disappointment.

"Okay, so I can at last wrap his brain around the fact the United States Government knew about the existence of aliens, and the big guy? Teal'C, was that his name is a honest-to-goodness alien… but other than that, and the big underground facility we were at, and why is the Air Force need with a place that size anyway…We don't have any more information than that. What the hell would a demon what with aliens anyway?'

The circular nature of his own thoughts spinning around in his head made him quite dizzy and more than a little nauseous so Dean quit thinking about and concentrated on a way to free themselves from the current untenable situation.

"Well, I must leave you for the moment, boys," the demon remarked conversationally, "We have guests. Oh, before I forget, I never did answer your question about why the suit. The demon glanced down at his navy blue suit jacket and khaki pants and the glanced at his reflection in a broken mirror across the way. "This fellow is high in the circles of power, and while the man himself is not aware that I have ah, 'borrowed' his semblance, I have managed to learn more than a few things about his allegiances and those who have come to visit have more than a few reasons to hate his guts."

"What makes you think they'll listen to anything you have or rather 'he' has to say, if you're right about this guy and his motivations?" Sam asked.

"Because, there's no greater motivation than hate," the demon replied and then turning on his heel left Sam and Dean inside the empty room and went out into the yard.

His departure left Sam and Dean to their own devices and free of whatever invincible force had held them prisoner.

"He seems awfully sure of himself.  
"Should we stop him?" Sam asked. "It seems that his deal is more with the SGC people."

"I think they came to rescue us?" Dean mused, mostly to himself. "I ain't accustomed to having my fat pulled out of the fire by military types. It's a highly diverting experience.

Sam sighed and got to his feet swaying a little due to the sudden light-headed sensation, wondering even as he did so that for the longest stretch that he could accurately recall the his massive headaches which were almost always followed up by horrific visions had not troubled him as much of late. That alone was something for which to be grateful for, and Dean was right, "Whether the crossroads demon was through with them or not they still had a duty to perform and Janet and her friends needed their help. "Let's go," Sam said aloud.

**Jack really did not know what to expect but an abandoned and dilapidated movie studio lot that had seen better days was definitely nowhere near the top of his lost as possible locations that Kinsey or his ilk might chose as a place to hold hostages for ransom. While it might appeal to his own sense of the bizarre it also made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Just as he was about to suggest that the team fan out and to start looking around a man Jack O'Neill could have sworn he had last seen in Washington D.C emerged from what appeared to have once been the saloon on a western film set. "Senator Kinsey, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Interesting choice of words," the other man replied. "I'd answer you, but allow me a moment to process."

"Jack," Daniel whispered coming up to stand to one side. "I don't think that's Kinsey. Do you notice something dreadfully wrong with his eyes?"

"Quiet, Daniel," Jack whispered back.

"Colonel O'Neill," Teal'C added as he joined them with Major Samantha Carter parking the jeep and then turning off the ignition before she and Janet also joined them in a rough semi-circle. Teal'C nodded and added. "I do not believe Doctor Jackson is entirely off the mark in surmise. I have not seen that particular nuance in another being's eyes, anywhere except in those taken over as hosts for the Go'uald."

"Stranger and stranger," Jack muttered. "Hey, have you had enough uh, 'processing time?" He shook his head and sighed. "Look, we don't want any more trouble than what's already gone down, Just have over the two civilians," Jack yelled.

"Civilians?"

"Yeah, the two kids you've more than likely got tied up back there."

"Oh, them. They'll be joining us shortly. Colonel O'Neil, I do not know how much or how little information the boys may have provided you and yours,….

"Colonel O'Neill! "Dean Winchester yelled as he emerged at a dead run from the saloon.

Sam also running, with his longer legs quickly outdistanced his brother and ground to a halt to one side of the group gathered in the yard. "That isn't the man you know! It's uh, doppelganger, an imposter. You can't believe a word he says!"

"Doppelganger?" Samantha Carter echoed.

"Look, its' kinda hard to explain. But remember how we explained about being ghost hunters, sometimes the paranormal has the damndest way of coming back to bite you on the ass. This is not ordinary ghost, its' uh…. Sam trailed off in awkward and uncomfortable silence..

The man that each and every member of the SGC knew as Senator Kinsey laughed, a laugh that would not have been out of place coming from a starving hyena.

For the life of him, and Jack O'Neill had been in some pretty tight and dangerous spots throughout his career in the Air Force; for some reason he had just begun to believe that there were 'ghosts' and there were two distinct kinds, the kind that one made for oneself and the really honest to goodness kind that went bump in the night.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Me" the man who may or may not have really been Kinsey said and spread out his hands in an expansive gesture. "To talk. I just want to get you all away from your familiar surroundings."

"Perhaps he has been possessed," Teal'C suggested.

"There's no way to tell without the proper instruments," Janet added. "And I get the distinct impression that this possession is more on the paranormal side than the extraterrestrial, if you catch my drift?"

"Indeed," Teal'C replied lifting one of his arched eyebrows, not at all certain in his own mind if he really did understand or not.

"If you're really an imposter, where's the really Kinsey?" Daniel asked.

"Where would you expect a oily, ambitious and somewhat shady senator to be?"

"So he was never here, and neither were the NID?" Sam remarked.

"No."

At that moment the doppelganger, demon, or whatever had possessed him and this particular instant Jack O'Neill did not give a damn about the exact specifics, looped the fingers of his two hands into the shape of the business end of a gun and aimed and fired and a burst of pale reddish white light streamed out of them and directly at the position where he and his team stood.

"Scramble!" he yelled and darted to one side.

Caught momentarily off-guard his team followed suit.

"It did not have to be like this. You could have introduced me to you, wait, what did the big one with the golden sigil call them, oh yes, the guls. Very appropriate name by the way. I like it."

Dean came up and pointed the business end of his own modified weapon directly at the demon's head. "Go to hell!" And aimed and fired, and Sam came up to help.

"I've already been there," replied the yellow-eyed demon grinned at his own gallows humor.

Jack, Sam, Teal'C, and Daniel had managed to evade the criss-crossing beams of light that was no light and seemed to have no visible source, and had begun to return fire. In the back of his mind Jack could not help thinking that the entire situation was something very surreal.

Just then a well-placed shot from Major Carter's weapon took the creature or whatever it was in the chest.

"Good shot!" Dean yelled. "Do it again!"

"Don't encourage her," the creature remarked to no one in particular.

"Oh, I beg to differ," Teal'C remarked and lining up a shot of his own aimed and fired and offered a grim little smile of his own as the creature toppled over, seemingly to come apart at the seams like a sack of spilt flour, the red light spilling out of it it waves. It grew too bright to look directly into for the space of a few heartbeats and then the creature was gone.

After that, it was all over except for the shouting.

Conclusion

"Just another day at the office for you, Ma'am? I mean, Samantha. Ah, the hell with it," Dean griped and the waved his hands around, "You knew what I'm getting at, don't you?"

Samantha Carter nodded and stifled the very inappropriate chuckle that had been working its way up her throat. Instead she clapped Dean on the back and nodded to his younger brother.

"At this rate, we either need to get you away from ASAP, and get to you promise in writing to never speak of your experiences here ever again..."

"Or what?" Sam Winchester asked.

"Or recruit you."

Sam and Dean glanced at each other and Sam blushed. "I honestly don't know what to say to that," Sam replied once he felt in control of both his own voice and his emotions.

"We're cool with that," both said almost tripping over each other's words as they did so.  
"Damn, are we really getting that predictable, bro. That might almost be the kiss of death right there.

"Don't worry, bro," Sam replied with that family off-center wry grin that Dean knew so well. "I've got a plan."

"Famous last words," Dean sighed and slapped his younger brother affectionately and solidly on the back. "I'm past ready to get the hell outta Dodge. How about you?"

"Let's go then," Sam replied.


	10. Wild Boys

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 belongs to MGM Studios, Gekko Film Corp, Renaissance Pictures and various creators and producers as do all of the characters who appear here or are mentioned; they are not mine. Supernatural is the creation of Erik Kripke and the CW Television Network. Note: The story picks up shortly after where Burning Daylight left off.

"Wild Boys" by karrenia

"There will be no more spectral manifestations, I trust?, General Landry said; and judging by the expression on his face he intended that to be more of an order than an inquiry.

All the same Dean Winchester and his implicit nature and ingrained habit of defying any authority, especially when it came in the form of either law enforcement or in this case, the military; his first instinct was always to blurt out something sarcastic and the complete opposite of what the man obviously wanted to hear. Dean had just opened his mouth to say as much, but whether it was the implied warning note in the older man's voice, or the fact that he sensed the tension in the gathered crowd around the conference table, Dean replied,

"I don't think so."

"I thought I disliked Kinsey before," Colonel Jack O'Neill said, "But after what happened out at that abandoned farmstead, his 'dislike factor' just shot up by at least ten, maybe twenty points."

Colonel O'Neill, I was not aware you were keeping score," Teal'C remarked as one of his dark eyebrows shot up several inches.

Don't encourage him, Teal'C," Doctor Daniel Jackson mildly remarked, leafing through the pages of a blue-encased report that he had prepared with Samantha Carter's assistance that morning when they had returned with the Winchester brothers.

Daniel was still uncertain in his own mind if what they had all seen and heard at the farm was either simply a case of possession from an alien parasite; just as the Gou ald did to those they took as hosts; or weather perhaps this was something outside of their own experience. The idea that ghosts existed as disembodied electro-magnetic bursts of energy was one thing; even as this particular thought crossed his mind it occurred to him that he was still trying to fit all the pieces together; still attempting to find a logical and scientific explanation for everything.

In the back of his mind he thought, 'we might have been better off with the ghosts, and what did they call that thing masquerading as Kinsey; Oh, a yellow-eyed demon or there was that German word, what was it? Oh yes a doppelganger;' Demons, ghosts, whatever.'

Sam Winchester cleared his throat. "I'm not really certain, uh, Sir, if we witnessed events in the same way. Who is this Senator Kinsey?"

General Landry saw Colonel O'Neill sucking in a deep breath in preparation for launching into one of his tirades and in an attempt to forestall it and cut him off at the pass, answered.

"Senator Kinsey is someone with a great deal of pull and connections to the United States government who has been trying for a number of years to cut off funding to our program."

"Or, shut us down all together," Jack added, more subdued.

"What I don't get is why he would go to such extraordinary lengths to get our attention; and discredit our operation. I mean, really, masquerading as some kind of demon?" Dr. Jackson added.

"Normally he just waltzes in here and says its a waste of time and resources and demands we be shut down."

"I would be inclined to agree," General Landry replied.

"I took the liberty of gathering up the uh, remains prior to our departure Sir," Carter added.

"And I took them over to Dr. Frasier and Dr. Lam to be analyzed. Doctor Jackson and I have complied a report; you should each have a copy in front of you."

Carter waited for everyone to reach forward and flip open the blue plastic report covers before she continued with what she had to say. In the back of her mind she could not help thinking that it would sound strange, and even a bit incoherent; and as both a scientist and a career military officer even she would not have believed coming from someone else. However the evidence of her own eyes, and the data that she gathered from both the Winchester brothers, grudging on Dean s part and more tentative on Sam s part; could not be denied.

"As you can see, whether the NID or rogue elements within their organization knew about the kidnapping is immaterial,: Carter said reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair away from her eyes,

"What I suggest is that we send a team to Washington D.C to inquire into Senator Kinsey's whereabouts."

"I could make a call to D.C, right now," Landry replied.

"It would be quicker that way," agreed O'Neill.

"Ordinarily, I would agree with you Sir," Carter replied, "however, I think either that whatever we encountered was merely someone or, as I am beginning to suspect, more like some thing, was impersonating the senator the fact remains that I am concerned that it might have compromised more than just our need to keep our operations on a need to know basis."

"Do you think that whatever that thing, was," O Neill replied with a heavy sigh, and then added: "Why don t we have a better terminology to use for whatever we re up against that thing, for cryin' out loud?"

He turned to pin Dean Winchester with his best level gaze and demanded. "You re supposed to be the experts, what would you call it?"

"A doppelganger," Dean replied, not at all intimidated by the dagger glare in the older man s eyes.

While he could appreciate that Colonel Jack O Neill was both angry and frustrated by what had happened, he felt that events had gone beyond the point where he and his younger brother could do much about events moving forward.

In fact, the best thing to do was convince General Landry, if he was indeed the person calling the shots around here to release them and they could then get back to doing what they did best; namely, hunt down and dispatch ghosts, ghouls, and assorted things that went bump in the night.

Even as that particular thought crossed his mind Dean could not help feeling all of a sudden a bit angry; angry that the yellow-eyed demon that had since even before he and his younger brother Sam had been born had been manipulating their lives and the lives of his family like a cat playing with a ball of twine; had suddenly taken up to meddling in the doings of some obscure and obviously top-secret Air Force operation.

"What exactly does that mean?" Carter asked.

"I recognize the root language of the words are German, I suspect, and while direct translations are never completely exact, I suspect the word would mean, double goer, or something to that effect," Daniel said with a speculative look in his eyes;

"He's right about that," Sam Winchester said.

"Yes, well, now we have identified the particular kind of demon, did you say?" General Landry demanded, "Exactly what do we do about it?"

"Track it down and destroy it," Sam Winchester replied.

"Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be easier said than done?" Daniel replied as he shook his head.

"You are wise to trust your instincts young Jedi-San." Dean gibed with an unmistakable sneer; fortunately for him Daniel Jackson, musing on root words and demonic possession had been completely obvious to it.

****

Senator Kinsey had always prided himself on being a practical man; who never trusted anything that he could not see, hear, touch, taste and smell with all five of his given senses; and when it came to politics, leaned towards the conservative side

and acted accordingly.

And all of the above served him well, even when he became involved with the Star Gate Program; as exciting as it all was, at the core, sometimes he thought it was all too much, not to mention too expensive.

His thinking on that matter had not changed an iota, until he came face to face with a yellow-eyed creature who informed him in no uncertain terms what would happen to him, and/or his family, should he inform anyone of his plans to take on his appearance and identity in order to implement a plan that would not only help with its own plans but in some as yet unspecified manner hurt his own cordial enemy, Colonel Jack O Neill and company.

Kinsey shook his head in order to clear of the inevitable cobwebs, and leaned forward with his elbows resting on the smooth polished surface of his desk and closed his eyes.

"What can I do? It s gone too far to stop it now; as If I could even know where to begin to stop it."

***

I've always wanted to visit D.C, Sam Winchester remarked as the group disembarked from the military-issue chopper.

"Well, now you re getting your chance, Daniel remarked.

"Sir, we' have been cleared with ground control already and there is a shuttle waiting for us at the east terminal," Carter said.

"Then's let's not keep them waiting," O'Neill replied.

They eventually joined up with other groups passing into and out of the airport terminal.

Everyone in the party had been issued civilian clothing prior to their departure from Colorado Springs and just like on the chopper flight that had brought them both to the Cheyenne mountain base and now for the duration of the plane flight here; Dean had moaned and groaned; Dean hated flying and always would.

"Why does Teal'C have to cover up that sigil on his forehead? "Sam asked.

"Yeah, man," Dean interrupted, "While it is kinda cool; does it mean anything?"

"It is prudent to take precautionary measures," Teal'C answered

"And to answer your second inquiry, it does have a meaning," Daniel replied.

"Precautionary measures, against what? And you never really answered Sam's question," Dean insisted not at all reluctant to play the part of rebel and resident punk.

In response to both Dean Winchester's demand and bellerigent attitude Teal'C offered one of his patented and enigmatic smiles and arched one of his sooty black eyebrows. "Let us proceed."

O Neill gestured to the way forward with his thumb and indicated that they were to get moving. What he said.

**

The eyes of the security staff were dead, but the movements of their bodies, their stiff-limbed gaits, and the rapid-fire from their weapons were very real, very accurate, and very deadly.

Samantha Carter paused a moment to gaze into the eyes of the nearest opponent and flinched away involuntarily. If, and to all appearances they had been, subverted by Kinsey s doppelganger, would it be better to put them out of their misery;

;a coup de grace, or disarm them and sort it out later?

She was viscerally aware that the uncaring, stony look in these men s eyes was uncannily similar to the expression in those who had been taken over and subverted by the Gou ald and probably as horrific. However, she only had mere minutes to contemplate the similarity, for weapons fire forced her and her companions to scramble to another more defensible position.

Meanwhile Sam and Dean were also comparing notes, as Dean leaned over and whispered to Sam,

"You know, now might be a good time to do that tele-kinetic thing you do. You know, while no one s paying that much attention to us."

Sam nodded, and scrunching up his eyes he focused his concentration on the weapons in the guard s hands, the air around him seemed to twist and bend out of its natural alignment as an instant later the weapons flew from their stony grips and away like broken shards of glass.

The loss of their weapons seemed to slow them down only momentarily, and the recoil of the effort forced Sam Winchester to lose his balance and stumble back into the strong arms of Teal C.

"What did you do?" The big man asked.

"Just something I do, that I thought would even the odds a little bit in our favor," replied Sam Winchester;

"They are still coming."

"Yeah, that s because I figure whoever, or more to the point, whatever possessed them is tapping to their natural instinct to keep going no matter what! Son of a bitch! Dean shouted.

"Watch it, bro," Sam Winchester muttered.

"So, how do we stop them?" Griped Colonel Jack O Neill.

"An exorcism circle?" Dean muttered more to his brother than actually answering O'Neill s question.

"Did you bring the gear?"

"Never leave home without it." Sam said; while their erstwhile companions stood around in various states of questioning, frustration, and anger, the two Winchesters began to pull out white chalk, a funny smelling powder that glistened with silvery brightness in the brittle winter sunlight; and spread it around in a circle, all the while muttering in Latin.

As it was only Doctor Daniel Jackson who grasped the meaning; and uttering a small gasp, encouraged his team to stand well back.

"Daniel?" Jack murmured.

"I think I understand what they re doing, and at this point it s best not to interrupt," replied Daniel.

The air temperature, not that warm to begin with, had dropped noticeably, and then when the chanting in Latin stopped, it seemed to Daniel, as if a ring of almost visible air and fire surrounded the possessed security guards.

Then they began to scream and squirm a black mist swallowed them up and blocked them from the sight of the shocked and engrossed viewers.

The Winchester brothers backed away, and a moment later from the blow of an invisible fist from the inside of the inky cloud of air and fire were tossed unceremoniously flat on their rear ends.

It would have been comical, but a least two dozen men's lives were at stake, and perhaps in manner that Daniel Jackson could not fully understand, their souls as well. No one was laughing now.

The inky cloud of air and fire at last dissipated, and there was a sudden whooshing noise and a thud; the security guards sat up and stared startled to find themselves in an alley on a brittle winter sunlight in the nation s capital, sitting on the ground with the business ends of military issue hardware pointed directly at them.

Training and experience took over, and they addressed Colonel Jack O'Neill as the senior ranking officer present. "Where are we Sir? What happened?"

"For cryin' out loud; I m damned if I know."

"Colonel?" Sam whispered.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Under the circumstances, I'd be careful of statements like that if I were you," Sam replied.

O'Neill, at this point, could not tell if the younger Winchester was in all serious or if he was taking a cue from his older brother and pulling a fast one on him. Whatever the case, Jack O'Neill was just glad it was over.

"Let's get to the mop-up; and the sooner the better to my mind."

***

Conclusion:

"I had believed that recruiting you both would be a good idea, Carter began, and then trailed off uncertainly.

"After everything that's happened, do you still believe that Ma'am?" Sam Winchester asked.

"Well, you've made your share of waves and there's no mistaking that Colonel O'Neill is not at all fond of you right now."

"Is it that obvious Carter?" O'Neill griped. "What I don t understand is how remarkably similar demonic possession is to uh, another situation we deal with."

"You guys have been dancing around this subject of, what did you call it? gul, ghoul possession?" Dean interrupted with a growl;

"Look I understand why you don t want just anyone stumbling on the fact that the whole the United States government have known about the existence of little gray men for at least what, twenty, thirty years now?"

Dean sighed and stepped forward to where Sam, Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill stood gazing down at the smoking pile of charred black ash and strode over to them.

"But, honestly, what kind of damage control to do you honestly thinks needs to be done with us?"

"You've made your position on the matter perfectly clear, Mr. Winchester," O'Neill yelled.

"There are demons and then there are demons, and this gul thing you re all so careful not to mention around us, just what kind of alien mojo are you are involved in?" Dean demanded folding his arms over his chest.

"That's classified," Carter replied.

"Figures,"Dean snapped.

"I believe this is where we should part ways", Teal C replied.

"If, and I can't believe I'm saying this; and I have seen more than my share of weird things in my time, O'Neill snapped.

"I don't doubt that you have, Sir," Dean replied.

"Don't smart-mouth me, pal, "Jack snapped back.

"As I was saying, I've seen my share of weird things, and I still am not entirely certain about this whole demonic possession thing. I saw it and I still don t believe it. Anyways, you have, uh...."

"Exorcised it," Daniel Jackson helpfully supplied.

"Okay, right, what he said. And it won t be coming back and taking over the bodies and minds of anyone else? It had better not," O'Neill said determinedly.

"I believe not, Sir," Sam Winchester replied.

"I feel so much better now," O'Neill sighed and reached up to finger-comb through his hair, wishing he somewhere else from here.

"Whatever the case, Sir," Carter added. "We need to keep what happened here on the down low."

"Colonel O'Neill."

"Senator Kinsey."

"I don't pretend to understand what just occurred here, but I concur with Major Carter. The less the amount of people who are privy to these events the better."

The Senator somehow managed to appear both contrite and haughty at the same time, leaving Jack O'Neill to wonder if the man practiced before a mirror.

If so it would be a remarkably useful trait for an elected official to adopt no matter how much it would grate on the more sensible nerves of a military man such as himself.

***

"Damn it! Don t lecture me on the need for secrecy!" O'Neill fumed, and took of his cap and strike his leg with it, and then after a bit stuck back on his head and ran ground the tip of his right boot into the ground.

"Kinsey, I don t like you, I have never liked you, and I've made no bones about that, but I suggest you do your best to get as far away from here as possible. Because if I never see you again; it will be too soon."

Colonel O'Neill! You are way out line!" Kinsey retorted drawing himself up, and even as he did it his lean height made Dean Winchester think of nothing so much as a praying mantis.

For his part Sam Winchester did not really care what they did or did not do to each other, whatever part they had to play in these events were over as far he was concerned; and if the military types wanted them to sign and abide by some type of non-disclosure promise; he would very happily sign and wish them goodbye and good luck.; after all, it was high time he and Dean were back on the road.

Just because they had been busy with these folks did not mean that the only other remaining living Winchester family member had been ignored by the powers that were out there. He cleared his throat and said aloud.

"Dean, I agree with Major Carter, let s just sign some waiver, they can slap us on the wrist, and we ll be outta here within the hour."

"And how will we do that, when my car is back in Minnesota?"

"Uh, I hadn't thought about that," Sam began and trailed off uncertainly.

Dad's still back there and he wouldn't let anything happen to your car. We can call him and then we're outta here," Sam said.

"Suits me just fine," O'Neill replied.

Kinsey nodded. I am leaving now, and I will notify the President of....."

"Of what?" Carter asked.

"Of your outright insubordination O Neill. As for something impersonating me; that will remain between you and your team; do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Oh sure, not a problem, wouldn't want anything to damage your sterling reputation now would we?" O'Neill replied.

Kinsey looked a bit taken aback by that but after a moment of staring at O'Neill he nodded and gruffly replied. "Good, at least we understand one another."

He marched down out of the crowded alley and into the street; withdrawing his cell phone from his coat pocket he phoning for his driver to come pick him up.

"Prissy little man, how do people like him become United States senators anyway?" Dean asked.

I don't want to know, Dean, Sam Winchester replied.

"I'm just glad it s over. And he's right about one thing. The less people know about this the better. We re ready to sign that non-disclosure or whatever you want us to do Sir."

"I guess I can't argue with that, " O'Neill replied.

"And I guess we should profit by his example and get the hell outta Dodge." Dean added. "I think I saw a pub a couple of blocks from here. What say we stop in for a quick one? I don t know about the rest of you, but I could use a drink."

"Let's go then, "Carter replied with a tired but determined smile.

"Might as well get this over with huh boys?"

Dean attempted to link his arm through Major Carter's more for the what effect it might have, and while she was military she was also a very attractive woman and plastered on his patented 'trust me' Dean Winchester's grins on his face.

At the mouth of the alley and facing the street entrance, the sun could just be spotted inching up over the tree line and liming the white marble buildings and monuments of the capital city in a rosy half-light.

"I couldn't t agree more," Dean replied.

Sam just sighed and shook his head.


End file.
